Pride and Resentments
by LotornoMiko
Summary: Lotor Allura & Romelle Sabbath pairings. Misunderstandings caused by their fathers and a strung out war led Allura and Lotor to view each other as enemies. Things don't get better once Arus falls & Allura ends up Lotor's slave.AU has nothing to do with AA
1. Chapter 1

Standard Discalimer time! I don't own Voltron, or the characters from Voltron. World Event Productions does. I do however own Sabbath. :D I also make no money off of this fic. This is done purely for entertainment purposes.

-Michelle

Majestic came to mind when one looked upon the room, it had a stately air to it, all hard wood floors and walls that were painted a brown so dark it was almost black. Those walls shone with a reflective sheen, reflecting the room's surroundings on all sides. He liked the reflections for a different reasons, the walls a mirror that allowed him to peer over the shoulders of those who called upon him.

Not that they openly tried to hide many things from him, the gathered men and women careful to bring to the table only the knowledge with which they wanted him to possess. He'd often smirk in private, knowing he had spies to ferret out this council's deepest and most personal secrets. Even now, he knew just who was in bed with whom, and who plotted to back stab and betray another, and just which of the women present here was harboring murderous thoughts in her heart.

Yes, there was little that stayed hidden from him, and he knew the council would quake with fear, each and every one of them, to know how informative his spies were. So he fed them parcels of tidbits, letting them ponder just how much he knew, sometimes giving them enough rope to hang themselves with. Right now he was considering the man to his right, the tall green scaled Drule who had dared to push a tall stack of paperwork before him.

This Drule was waiting impatiently for him to take more than a passing glance at the documents. But he barely looked, fixing his gold gaze elsewhere. Frowns met his eyes, the council displeased, their worry making them forget their place. He might ordinarily rage at that, but for once even he recognized the severity of the situation.

"King Zarkon..." The green scaled Drule was calling out his name, gaining his attention once more. He didn't seem to realize how dangerous it was to be the sole focus of Zarkon's attention, the King narrowing his eye at him. "Something must be done."

Zakron fought to keep the scowl off his face, not liking anyone pointing out the obvious to him. He was well aware of the situation they had at hand, and the need to correct it before it grew even more out of control.

"Arus must be stopped." Continued the Drule, and gave a wild gesture of his hand, fingers pointed at the tower of paper before Zarkon. "This is just a small taste of the damages that kingdom's interference has cost us. The planets lost, wealth and slaves stolen from us!"

"This cannot be allowed to continue!" It was a woman who spoke, her scaly skin colored a sickening orange. Her head was nearly bald, save for the pony tail that sprouted out the very center of it, a darker orange descending well past her shoulder blades. "We cannot afford the losses we keep incurring at Arus' hands."

Zarkon said nothing to this, listening to the agreeing hum of the other members of his council. They were all enraged by Arus' constant interference, maddened by the loss of power and money. Truth be known, so was Zarkon, the King hating that another planet could prove a match for Doom. At least when it came to fighting power, for he felt no one could be the equal of a Drule's ruthlessness and thirst for conquest.

He held back his sighs as he listened to the orange scaled woman speak, the women detailing the most recent of Doom's losses. What should have been a flawless victory had ended with Doom's retreat, their tail between their legs as they ran from Arus' assault. It was becoming a recurring problem, Arus appearing to deal out defeat after defeat to the Empire.

His beloved Doom was crumbling before his eyes, his fledging empire having it's life snuffed out before it could properly take hold of other worlds. How many planets had they lost by now? At least fifteen, which was as shocking as it was insulting, Doom suffering for too many losses. They were wasting time, effort, and resources, and coming away with nothing. And all because of Arus, that upstart world ruled by a human King who thought himself better than the Drule.

It hadn't always been like this. In the beginning, Doom had had it's success, riches after riches landing in the Drules' laps. Worlds fell under the might of the Doom Empire, whole kingdoms crushed, their people enslaved. Zarkon's empire had begun what was meant to be a galaxy spanning domination, and no one seemed poised to stop them! No one that is, until they turned their attention to a seemingly back water planet named Arus.

That planet's innocent image had proved deceptive, the world full of humans willing to fight. They might not have stood a chance against the fledging empire's military might, but the humans had smarts on their side. Some of the most intelligent and capable men and women of the galaxy, the scientists developing a weapon, one who premiered it's debut performance when Doom tried to lay waste to the capital kingdom of Arus.

Zarkon and his people had been amused when one lone defender appeared to fight the full force of Doom's military. They had tens of thousands of ships in orbit around Arus, that number should have been enough to crush any piddling resistance of that world. They had expected ships, and gotten none, just one lone robot that towered taller than any building on Arus or Doom combined.

Immediately Doom's armadas had set into motion a plan to bring down the robot, intending to disable it within minutes, then resume the attack on Arus' capital. They had received the shock of their lives when the robot did not so much as falter, the creation commanding the elements, and unleashing devastating attacks. Lightening had crackled down from the sky, zapping the ships and shorting out their electrical wiring. Winds had buffeted the ships from all sides, knocking them off course. Water had doused them, rusting their metal hides and seeping into the computers. Fires had cause ships to explode, and jagged rock had torn open their sides.

All this, and then the robot formed a sword, using that blazing metal to cleave in half whole ships, the robot choreographing a deadly dance that kept it and it's blade on constant move. The remains of Doom's armada littered the space around the planet, so many lives killed, ships destroyed in an instant. Those lucky few that had been left to survive, and had quickly retreated to Doom, to tell their King and his council what they had witnessed with their own eyes.

Zarkon's first reaction to news of this robot was to lust for it, the Drule King wanted such power for his own. He sent more ships, aided by his witches' magic, all in an attempt to bring down the robot, and drag it back to Doom where his scientists could study it. Time and time again his forces failed, until the council appealed to him to see reason.

"The robot is simply indefeatable." They cried out to him. "We must forget about it and Arus. We must accept this loss, and move on to richer worlds."

Zarkon had been reluctant to agree, but in the end had conceded to their wisdom. With reluctance in his heart, he had abandoned the campaign against Arus, turning to it's neighbors instead. One world fell, and then a second, and just as Doom was poised to take a third planet, Arus interfered. A call for help had been sent to that world, Arus sending ships and above all, that blasted robot of theirs.

It was another brutal massacre, Drules lives wasted in scant minutes. The wrecks of their ships still floated over that planet, they had been less than successful in retrieving the remains. Not with Arus running interference, lending ships to that world and to others nearby. Arus seemed determined to stop Doom from expanding it's grasp in it's part of the galaxy, the King mobilizing the planets, gaining ships and soldiers from each world. Even without Voltron, the combined might of those seven planets might have been enough to hold Doom at bay, with the robot they were nearly invincible.

Zarkon was forced to concede defeat to Arus time and time again, the King trying to cut his losses and move on to a different part of the Denubian Galaxy. After all, it was a vast galaxy, wit hundreds of thousands of planets spread through out space. What did it matter if he let Arus and it's neighbors remain free for just a little while longer?

He soon got the answer to that question, Arus bringing it's robot and military to clash with Doom on the opposite side of the galaxy. By this time Zarkon had amassed more wealth, his military expanded to offer up a good fight against Arus and it's robot. Sometimes they managed to even win, procuring a new planet, with it's riches and ships, and slaves to fly them, and thus the empire expanded even more.

It became a daily clash with Arus, Doom fighting with them for every world they would try to gain. With their expanding military, it wasn't always a guaranteed win for Arus, even with it's robot, and Doom sometimes spread it's army thin, by focusing on several worlds at once. Arus couldn't be everywhere, couldn't protect everyone, and thus little by little Doom gained some more ground. But for every planet they won, they seemed to lose two more, Arus tenacious as a dog with a bone. It was beyond ridiculous, this problematic war lasting for over two years now.

Arus' rebellion against Doom gave the other planets hope, the world's people thinking they could dare to fight back against the Drule. Sometimes they had their military waiting, and it was doubly hard for Doom to gain a victory when engaged with two forces at once. Their victory was never assured, but neither was Arus', upon occasion Doom managed to force the Arusian ships into a retreat.

Both sides suffered extensive losses, bitter enemies that would not be content until one side was wiped out of the galaxy completely. So far neither had managed to

destroy the other side completely, all of Denubian their battleground.

Zarkon did not know what motivated the Arusian King. He simply snorted at the idea that someone, even a human, could be so kind hearted as to want to help his fellow man out. He didn't believe in peace, knowing only those lowborn peasants would wish for such an ideal. He'd much quicker believe the Arusian King wanted to gain control of the Denubian Galaxy, and was seeking to do so with the illusion of helping others. Let them join together to defeat the Drule, then find out they had signed their rights away to the Arusians.

If that was the Arusians' true intent, then it was an admirable scheme. He might even respect the Arusian King for it, admiring his cunning and the way he was able to rally the people of the united worlds together. Might if not for the fact it was seriously interfering with the Empire's way of doing things! No longer content to guard worlds that Doom had set their sights on, the Arusians were even making plays for already conquered worlds, trying to free those planets from the Empire. So far they had failed, not even one success to their name for it was a lot easier to guard a world than free a planet from tyranny.

Zarkon held in his sighs, tempted to lash out with his arm and topple the tower of paperwork. He did not need to look at those documents to guess what was written there. No doubt it was the latest reports from Budapeg, a world that was rich in minerals and bloated with free humans. Those minerals were worth a small fortune alone, and the humans would have made fine slaves to mine out those assets. Enough money would have been earned from the sale of those minerals to outfit over a dozen armadas, funding for several campaigns to new worlds that had not yet been touched by Doom's influence.

He was not surprised to know Arus had once again interfered, though he had hoped, foolishly, that for once the robot wouldn't show up to play savior to Budapeg's people. He didn't know what was the Arusians' game, didn't understand why they would do this. They never asked for compensation from the people they saved, and Zarkon sneered at the thought of someone doing something out of the goodness of their own heart.

The only thing they were accomplishing, other than keeping his empire from growing in size, was working Zarkon's last nerve. His irritation left him in a foul mood, rendering the King dangerous to be around. But more than that he schemed, trying to think of a way to be rid of the threat of Arus and it's robot. If he couldn't claim the robot for himself, then he'd destroy it. It and the people who had created it.

Such a thought almost made him smile, Zarkon leaning back against the comfortable cushions of his chair. His council members noticed his relax state, frowns appearing on all but one's face. Looks were exchanged, but no one dared ask the King if he had been paying attention.

"We have to do something about Arus!" repeated the orange scaled woman, face grimacing.

"No, what we need to do is destroy that robot defender of theirs." Said another woman, hood thrown back to reveal her lovely face. She was colored a dark purple, her features all too human if not for the gold colored eyes, and ears that tapered to a point. "Do away with the robot, and Arus will fall!"

"And do you have a proposal on how we can accomplish such a feat Haggar?" demanded the green scaled man. She grimaced, and even that could not lessen her beauty, Haggar shaking her head no.

"But I'm sure if given enough time, I will stumble upon the answer!"

"We may not have the time to wait!" protested a different man, his red head ridges a stripe down the center of an otherwise bald head, "The more time passes, the more powerful Arus becomes...and Doom weakens for every successful attack that kingdom launches!"

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Zarkon demanded, and every eye turned towards the green scaled council member. It appeared they had been waiting for his question, the Drule exhaling a deep breath before speaking.

"I've given the matter some thought."

"Have you now?" Zarkon demanded with an arch of one thin eyebrow.

"They've left us with no other choice..." continued the green scaled councilman. "We have to put aside our differences..."

"And do what?" Zarkon questioned sharply.

"Form an alliance with Arus."

Zarkon paused, as though giving the idea the thought it deserved. The council members were looking at him hopefully, it was clear they had all discussed this matter privately. It annoyed him to think they would go behind his back like this, even as he laughed at the thought of an alliance with Arus. "Ally ourselves with the Arusians? Are you mad?"

The council man did not deflate, pushing forward determinedly with his idea. "If we can forge an alliance with Arus, there'd be no one left to stop us. No one to get in our way!"

"And just why would Arus agree to this?" demanded Zarkon, and before anyone could answer he was continuing. "They clearly hate us. They interfere with us every step of the way!"

"But why do they do that?" questioned the orange scaled woman. "What motivates them to not only protect their world, but come to the aid of others? What reason could there be if not that they secretly hunger for the chance to rule over this galaxy."

"They can't be doing this out of the goodness of their own heart!" added the Drule with the red head ridges. "No one is THAT nice."

"They clearly must hunger for power...a power they mean to take from Doom! But if we can turn that ambition aside, if we can get them to see the benefits of an

alliance...think of how unstoppable Arus and Doom would be together!"

Zarkon frowned, not liking the thought of sharing power with anyone. His council members read the look on his face, they were exchanging looks, the green scaled Drule speaking. "It would put an end to the attacks, the needless fighting. We'd be bale to continue unimpeded with our assault on the worlds that make up the Denubian Galaxy..."

"If we ally with the Arusians, we'd get access to that robot of theirs!" added the man with the red head ridges. He was clearly try to appeal to Zarkon's desire for the robot, but the King was not so easily swayed. Not until Haggar rose from her seat, the beauty smiling as she spoke.

"I think this proposal has some merits..."

"Oh you do, do you?"

"Yes." She nodded. "Mawoga is on the right track, though I believe he needs to change the focus of his plan. We should ally with Arus...lull them into a false comfort." She grinned, revealing her two pointed fangs, teeth gleaming pearl white. "You see your highness, I propose we merely lie about becoming their friends. We get close to them, we learn their secrets. We discover their weakness and ways to exploit them. And then..." She raised her hand, making a fist as she smiled. "We crush them." She chuckled them, her amusement apparent in her face. "As our allies they'd be force to reveal the secrets of that robot of theirs...we'd know just how to strike to put an end to it and them!"

"Not a bad idea..." Zarkon mused, gazing thoughtfully at Haggar. "But how will we convince them of our sincerity?"

"We'll have to make some sacrifice." Haggar quickly answered. "Send them gifts of gold and slaves...things to sweeten the pot."

"They should be paying homage to us." Grumbled the orange scaled woman.

"Now, now Lashina..." chided Haggar. "We have to play the humbled ones if we are going to succeed with our deception." She smiled at Zarkon, a crafty look in her eyes. "I understand the Arusian rulers have a young daughter. She would be perfect for our purposes."

"Oh?"

"I think an old fashioned alliance is best." Continued Haggar. "We'll propose to unite our two kingdoms through marriage. I believe your son is of a marriageable age is he not?"

"Lotor?" Zarkon frowned then, thinking of his son. The boy had just turned 17, and wasn't even old enough to have a harem of his own. Not that the prince did not pester his father daily for such a privilege to be granted to him, the boy already lusting after women, leaving the King half frazzled in his attempts to control Lotor's libido. He had already caught the boy fooling around with some of the servants, the prince beyond stealing just kisses as he made his desires known.

"It won't be any trouble to command your son to marry the princess." Haggar added. "And this needn't be a long term sentence. He can divorce the girl just as soon as Arus has fallen, and she will be good practice for him in preparation for his true wife."

"At the very least it might calm down some of his urges." Zarkon mused, thinking once Lotor got laid on a frequent basis he might be able to concentrate on something other than sex. His son was far too consumed with women and the pleasure their flesh could offer him, the boy neglecting his studies and weapon's training.

"So we are agreed then?" prodded Haggar, looking around the table at each member of the council. They were all nodding, in agreement for once that Arus must be stopped. This farce of a marriage seemed just the ticket to that world's downfall, Zarkon already sitting back to think on just what sort of tribute he would sent to the Arusian King. It wouldn't do to send too much wealth, he wasn't about to bankrupt his own personal fortune in trying to lull the Arusians into a false sense of security. Nor would it do to skimp on the riches, Zarkon trying to settle on the perfect balance to properly dazzle the Arusian and give off the appearance that the Doom Empire had been humbled by their defeats.

He was too busy thinking about the finer details of this scheme for Zarkon to even give one-second of consideration to his son. Neither did the council members, Haggar and the others seeing Lotor as just a tool to be used. No one thought to ask the boy what he would want, and no one gave even an ounce of consideration to how this marriage might affect him.

To Be Continued...

Michelle


	2. Chapter 2

When the doors to his throne room were swept open, Alfor was greeted with cheers, the majority of the court turned out to welcome him back among their fold. The crowd was on their feet, hands clapping together in a rousing applause of a standing ovation. From overhead, confetti fell, gold and white bits of paper that touched down on everyone, sticking to their hair.

Alfor tried to ignore the nuisance of the confetti, raising a hand in greeting to his court. If possible, the applause grew louder, the people cheering now. They had a right to be excited, the whole court celebrating the latest in a string of victories against the fledging empire known as Doom. He had personally led Arus' armada into the fight for Budapeg, his own ship not only being the first to open fire, but to land a devastating blow on one of the Doom vessels.

Alfor wasn't the type of King to be content to hide behind others, if there was a battle to be had, he insisted on being there, fighting with his soldiers. Nor did he allow anyone to talk him into standing back from the battles, hiding behind other ships while men and women fought and died for him. He took great pleasure in being at the front of his army, flags unfurled and flying high as he led his military into battle. It had an effect on his men, the soldiers gaining strength and confidence to see their King fight besides them.

Of course, his aides did not approve, even now they could be seen frowning at him, hands giving a reluctant clap of acknowledgment. They thought he took too many risks, thought he should stay behind on Arus, lock himself safely away with paperwork. Alfor nearly scoffed at the very idea, knowing paperwork could not compare to the rush of adrenaline he got when he was commanding a ship, or raising his sword to fight one on one with an opponent.

He enjoyed dueling, perhaps more than was healthy, Alfor living for the battles. Not many on Arus would dare challenge him, leaving him lacking for sparring partners. But with Doom's uprising, that hadn't been a problem, Alfor constantly busy with one war or another. His advisor and aides disapproved, not liking their King to go gallivanting off to other worlds. Nor did they like this dividing of their forces, sending their defending robot Voltron off to fight for other kingdoms.

Alfor was tired of constantly pointing out the advantages of rescuing other worlds, how it cemented the bond between them and Arus, allowed new alliances and fortunateness occurrences. Trade was never better between Arus and it's neighbors, their exports were thriving, and they were in the midst of developing a Galaxy Alliance to combat the threat of the Doom Empire. It might only be a handful of planets now, but one day it would grow, matching then surpassing Doom in it's might.

And Alfor would be at the head of this alliance, leading planets to protect their weaker neighbors, until the Drule menace was gone from the Denubian Galaxy. Maybe then he would be able to rest, Alfor sighing. He hadn't started this war with Doom, but by Gods, he intended to finish it!

And not just for his people, Alfor thought, smiling as he caught sight of the girl sitting on one of two thrones. They were side by side, gold embellished with dark purple cushioning, neither throne more lavish than the other. For on Arus, a Queen was equal to her King, both their opinions valued. The Queen's throne would have been empty, a fact that made Alfor's heart hurt. Empty if not for the girl who was rising from the throne, her face lit up with her delight to see him.

"Father!" She cried, her unruly curls bouncing as she rushed down the platform the thrones rested on. She was dressed in purple and pink, her golden hair completing the summery look of her.

"Allura." Alfor said, greeting his daughter, the precious princess of Arus. He dropped to one knee, holding out his arms in anticipation of the hug she would give him. She closed the distance between them, and hug him fiercely, her tiny body trembling. If there was one thing Alfor hated about going to war, it was leaving his darling, only child behind. But battlefields were no place for a child as bright eyed and full of happiness as she was, Alfor making a promise to never allow the war to touch his daughter.

"Oh I missed you father!" Allura was saying, pressing a kiss into his cheek. He smiled, and let her kiss the opposite cheek, then pulled back to look at her. She seemed older somehow, as if the month's separation had aged her by years though he knew that couldn't be possible. She was still the same fifteen year old girl he had left on Arus, though perhaps she was a little wiser now that she had been enduring the tutelage of his advisor Coran.

"And I you, Allura." Alfor told her, noting the entire crowd inside the throne room was bowing around them.

"Oh! Oh you must tell me all about Budapeg!" Allura urged, tugging on his hand. She was leading him towards his throne, and Coran was waiting to the side of the platform. His advisor looked far too serious for Alfor's liking, the mustached man not smiling as he watched his charge and her father approach. Allura didn't seem to notice, talking at a rapid fire pace as she asked him question after question.

"Is it a beautiful world?" She wanted to know. "Full of sunshine and flowers? Or is it an advanced world, cities as far as the eye can see?"

"It's both." Alfor said, smiling at her delighted laugh. "The cities are quite large, but they are encircled by forests and fields, a sea of colorful flowers stretching between each one. The cities themselves are covered with a clear dome, it keeps the wildlife from wandering their streets."

'Are the animals dangerous?" She asked, and he nodded.

"Some are. But they are beautiful, wild and exotic...The people of Budapeg cannot bear to harm even a single claw of one, choosing instead to exist in a kind of harmony with them. Oh Allura, you should see the sights! The animals walk right up to the dome, uncaring of the people they see there. I was able to see many types of creatures, many indigenous to that world."

"Oh, I hope I get a chance to go to Budapeg someday!" Allura sounded wistful then, the girl having his traveler's blood in her veins. But the furthest she had been to was the next kingdom over, everyone agreeing they couldn't risk the throne's only heir. She had all but been grounded, Allura only able to see other worlds on holo recordings, and the stories the travelers told her. She took special delight in quizzing her father about everything he had seen, and Alfor felt much pleasure to detail his adventures.

She wasn't that interested in his battles though, Alfor having to content himself with talking about his victories to the Lords and Ladies of the court. What Allura wanted to know was about the worlds, longing for new places to visit in daydreams. She was even curious about the Doom Empire, wondering what kind of people and culture they had. That was one group of questions Alfor couldn't answer her, not much was known about Doom save for their invasion practices. And those were something he tried to spare her ears from hearing.

Alfor felt Allura didn't need to know the details of just what Doom did when it invaded a new world, telling only the briefest of facts, such as how they enslaved the people. She knew they worked them without a fair wage, but he left off the kind of abuses they suffer at the Drule's hands, the beatings, molestations, and other forms of abuse. Reluctantly he had admitted they worked the slaves to their deaths, and she had been suitable distressed at the reveal. Allura understood enough to know the Doom Empire was a bad thing, that his fighting the Drules and their King meant the galaxy continued to be safe from their tyranny.

His daughter approved of what he was doing, even as she mourned the time they spent separated. What's more, he knew he would have to go away soon, Alfor wondering if his brother would be willing to send his daughter to stay with Allura during this time. Princess Romelle was only one year older than Allura, and the two had formed a close friendship. If anyone could cheer up Allura during her father's continued absence, it would be Romelle.

Allura was still chattering away, all smiles as she speculated about Budapeg. She wanted to know everything, about the people and their culture, and Alfor tried to remember what little he had seen. Unfortunately for them both, most of his time had been spent hovering over the planet, engaged in a fierce ship battle with the Doom armada. He had only touched down on Budapeg briefly, all in order to meet and greet with the ruler of that planet. The Queen there had been suitable grateful, agreeing to support Alfor in his attempt to drive the Drule from the galaxy.

Money, soldiers, and ships had been promised to him, the numbers increasing his gathered might. They'd be well prepared for the next encounter with the Drule, ready to draw their armadas away wherever they might show next. Of course, Alfor had spies with their ears open, trying for an advance warning of where Doom would strike next. Alfor would like to one day be lying in wait for the Drule, rather than hurrying to rescue some world at the last minute.

"Father, you're not even listening!" pouted Allura, and he smiled at her.

"Forgive me, my daughter. I was merely thinking about all the preparations I must make for the next battle." Charmingly, her pout deepened, the girl looking put out by his words.

"You'll be leaving for another battle? When?"

"I do not yet know..." Alfor admitted, and nodded a hello to Coran. "We may only have enough time to refuel and restock. Doom could strike at any time..." Allura sighed, but knew better than to beg him to stay, the girl sadly letting go of his hand so that he might take his seat upon his throne.

Coran thrust a data pad before Alor's face, the king blinking in surprise. "What's this?"

"My estimation on the amount of money and resources we have spent fighting Doom." Gentle reprove was in the advisor's voice, the man trying not to tsk. "We are running low on money to fund projects for the improvements needed for our cities...the people are growing restless.."

"The people will understand." Alfor interrupted him. "We must keep the galaxy free of the Drule's tyranny. If we allow even one planet to fall into Zarkon's hands, then we open ourselves up to disaster. Besides...we can do without new buildings for one more year. In these troubling times, we must all buckle down financially."

"If you would just ask for some compensation that extended beyond improving your military might, we might have the money needed to take care of ALL our people's needs." Grumbled the advisor.

"Coran no. I would not ask another planet to bear the burden of Arus' financial crisis."

"And yet you gladly bear the burden of protecting them!" pointed out Coran, earning a sharp look from the King.

"Someone has to." Alfor said, tone reasonable. "What good is might if you don't use it to protect yourself?"

"That's all well and good..." Coran nodded. "But first and foremost we must take care of ourselves. Arus will be in no position to rush to the rescue of others, if we suffer a financial collapse!"

"I won't let things get that bad." Alfor assured him. "I promise."

"Hmph." Coran didn't look like he believed him, taking the data pad back, and fiddling with it's buttons. Allura had sat quietly on the Queen's throne, paying strict attention to the exchange between her father and Coran.

"Are we really in such dire straits?" She asked now, and Alfor turned to her, patting her hand in a reassuring manner.

"Fear not Allura. Arus is still far from ending up in the poor house."

She didn't look convinced, chewing on her bottom lip uncertainly. "Would it help if I went without a new wardrobe this year? I mean..." She stammered in response to her father's surprised look, the girl worrying at her lip incessantly. "Surely that money could go towards better things.."

Alfor was touched by her offer, the King patting her hand once more. "Thank you Allura. You are very generous. But a few dresses won't bankrupt the kingdom any further..."

"But."

"But nothing." He smiled at her then. "I want you to enjoy the summer, and not worry about things like money and the like." She still looked ready to protest, Alfor tsking. "Smile for me daughter. Your sadness does not suit you."

That earned him a weak smile, Allura still looking so unsure. He frowned at Coran, wishing his advisor hadn't brought up the matter of money before her. But knowing Coran, he had been schooling Allura in all manner of financial matters, giving her a chance to see how this war with the Doom Empire was dwindling much of Arus' resources.

Coran looked unapologetic, looking up from his data pad only long enough to shrug. Alfor fought the urge to sigh, turning to sit face forward. The exchange had not gone unnoticed by his court, though now the Lords and the Ladies busied themselves by forming small groups, chattering about what he did not know. No doubt they were eager for the chance to speak on what they had overheard, and it was only out of respect for their King that they kept quiet this long.

The doors to his throne room swept open once more, Alfor looking up in time to see soldiers laboring with a large wagon that was laden down with chests. A heavy cloth lay over the items on the wagon, not quite covering the ornate wooden chests from sight. Alfor glanced in Coran's direction, and saw the puzzled look on the advisor's face, the man not knowing what this was.

"Coran..." Alfor murmured, and the advisor nodded. He hurried towards the wagon, data pad in hand as he approached the man in the lead. A whispered conversation was held, the man turning to look at the wagon, and gesturing wildly. Coran shook his head several times, the castle guard looking insistent, until at last the advisor gave a weary sigh.

"Well, Coran?" Alfor prodded as the man returned to his side. "What is that?"

"It's a gift sire." Coran whispered, and Alfor raised his eyebrows.

"A gift?" He echoed, and Coran nodded, face expressionless.

"From one King Zarkon."

"Zarkon!" That was Allura, she had recognized the name and reacted with the suitable amount of horror. "Why would the Drule king be sending us gifts?"

"A very good question." Coran answered, and shrugged. "One I do not have the answer for."

"Hmph." groused Alfor. "Did they check to make sure it's not booby tapped?"

"Oh yes sire." Said the guard in at the head of the wagon. "We triple scanned it for poisons, explosions. and projectiles. It reads clean."

"How...strange..." Alfor murmured, then stood. "Well! Let us see just what Zarkon sees fit to gift us with!"

"Sire, are you sure that is wise?" Coran asked, pacing behind the King.

"You heard the man, they triple scanned it and it came back clean." Alfor was already motioning for the blanket to be dragged free of the wagon, revealing several large chests. They were made of lacquered wood, and bore locks made of silver, the padlocks in shape of Doom's insignia, that of a skull and crossbones. Nasty looking things those skull were, with malevolent leers and dead eyes.

Keys were found among the chests, a simple turning opening one up. The court gasped, then seemed to step closer, eager to look upon the contents. Alfor himself felt his jaw dropping, staring at what had to be at least seven hundred solid gold bars. And that was in one chest alone!

"What is the meaning of this?" Alfor demanded, not risking touching the chest of gold. "What could he hope to accomplish with a gift like this?"

"I cannot fathom the mind of a tyrant." Answered Coran, looking at the second chest which held rubies, diamonds, and sapphires, some as big as his fist. There was some fastened on gold chains, making pretty and expensive necklaces and bracelets. The chest was large, it must have weighed the weight of several healthy human men, the wealth of jewels such that even without the gold bars they could have rebuilt each and every city on Arus from the ground up, and still have money left over.

The third chest held pearls, the biggest ones Alfor had ever seen. And that did not compare to the fourth chest which held the precious mineral lazon, it solidified into bars that were almost as heavy as the gold ones. The fifth chest was small, it easily fit into Alfor's hands. He jerked the lid open, and found himself staring at paperwork, his expression puzzled and mind refusing to understand the words.

"Coran!"

The advisor heeded his call, stepping away from the pearl chest to take the topmost papers out of the fifth chest. He gave a long considering look to the words printed there, the court seeming to hold their breath as they waited for him to announce what the papers said. "It's...deeds of ownership." Coran at last said, and Alfor frowned.

"Ownership to what?"

"To land and people..." Coran answered, and Alfor cut him off with a shout.

"People?" Coran nodded at that, and Alfor all but snarled. "We do not own people. That is something only Drules, and uncivilized worlds would do."

"You own them just the same." Coran said, reading the papers once again. "It appears Zarkon is awarding you five hundred healthy slaves, to do with as you see fit."

"I'll do nothing more than free them!" snapped Alfor, the gathered court rumbling their approval. "Why is he doing this? Why has he sent me such a lavish gift? Does he

mean to buy my loyalty, to bribe me into not interfering with his plans for conquest?" Coran had no answer for him, Alfor continuing, just short of shouting. "I won't do it! I won't be bribed, and I won't give in to the Drule, not for all the wealth in their Empire! Send it back!"

"Sire!" An aide had appeared besides him, the woman's eyes holding a crafty look to them. "It would be a grave insult if we sent this generous gift back..."

"Let him be insulted." Alfor snapped, throwing the small chest onto the floor. It turned and tumbled, papers falling out, Alfor wanting to stomp on them.

"At least find out why he has done this." Urged the woman, ignoring the furious look Alfor shot her. "The King of the Drules does nothing without a reason...it is up to you to discover what it is..."

"Coran?" Alfor looked at his advisor, seeking his opinion.

"It would not be wise to just spit upon this gift." Coran began, and Alfor made a scoffing sound. "Not until we learn the Drules true motives. I say we call him, find out just what he hopes to gain in giving you such things."

"It's probably stolen." Alfor grumbled, thinking it wealth from the words the Doom Empire had conquered.

"We could put this wealth to good use..." said the woman, voice trying to seduce him into using the gift. He glared at her, wondering if Miranda should be demoted from her position.

"If we use this money, we will be as tainted as the Drule." Alfor said to her disappointment. "But I will call Zarkon, and gain answers. And heaven help him if I am not satisfied with what he tells me!" Kicking aside the chest on the floor, Alfor began marching past the wagon. He got only a few feet when he realized his daughter Allura was following him, Alfor turning to look at her.

"Stay here Allura."

"But father!" She protested, and he shook his head. "I want to come see!"

"No. The King of the Drule is a fearsome sight. Sure to give an innocent girl such as yourself a host of nightmares." She opened her mouth to protest, and it took all of Alfor's strength not to snap at her in the moment. "Allura no. Do as I ask. You'll be better off the less contact you have with these demons and their king." Allura still looked like she wanted to argue, but then she was sighing, bowing her head in defeat.

"All right father. If you think it's best.."

"I do." He said, then marched out of the room. Coran issued a few words to the aides, ordering them to watch over the princess. He was also quick to make mention that not one pearl or jewel should go missing, Coran wanting to make sure the entirety of the gift was returned to Doom. It wasn't just the aides protesting that idea now, some of the nobles were greedy for the gift of the Drules.

But Alfor didn't trust the riches, any more than he trusted the Drule King. A bad feeling was working it's way through the pit of his stomach, Alfor trying not to give in to fear of the unknown. He had no way of knowing what this gift meant, and yet he knew it couldn't bode well for him or his planet.

To Be Continued...

Man this chapter ran long...! Nowhere near where I wanted to end it either! :o

Michelle

Anon, no this story has nothing to do with Animal Attraction. Sabbath is my recurring original character who appears in several stories. Ryder also appears, not in this story, but in Animal Attraction and Divine Misunderstandings.


	3. Chapter 3

He had cornered a slave girl, the woman tall and thin, with only the slightest of curves. There was barely enough breast to squeeze, and the woman trembled constantly. Her fear amused him, spoke to some predator instinct inside him that made him want to pounce. A predator's hunger wasn't the only reason for the prince's cruelty, lust drove much of his actions, the boy at the age when additional Drule hormones were pumping through him, leaving him wild with desires that raged out of control.

He thought his father being needlessly cruel to leave him without an outlet for his lusts, the prince wishing he had a harem, even a small one with only twenty slaves. Maybe then once he sated his body on several dozen women, he'd be able to think beyond the urges of his cock. But no matter what kind of argument he offered to his father, the King always told him no, hiding behind the lie that he was not yet old enough to manage one woman, let alone a harem full of them.

It left the prince seeking relief elsewhere, the boy picking on the slaves that made up the household's servants. These women weren't picked for their looks, they were there to work. Their duties ran the gamut from cooking to cleaning and everything in between. Some might think it a hard life, but as castle slaves, they had a roof over their head, and were given scraps leftover from the fine meals the King enjoyed.

They were expected to work hard in return for these niceties, but they weren't treated with cruelty for the most part. With their plain looks and unappealing bodies, they didn't have to fear abuse of a sexual kind, and that left them unprepared to deal with an amorous prince. Lotor chuckled under his breath, watching the slave's face, her eyes wide, her nostrils flaring with her panicked breaths. She didn't know how to get out of this situation, and her orders and desires were of a conflicting nature. She was to expressly obey one of the members of the royal house, to do anything they asked, no matter how distasteful she may have found it.

Of course Lotor didn't think what he asked was so bad, the prince ordering the slave to her knees. He was too intent on getting her to open his pants to pay much mind to his surroundings, a fact that would have had his father frowning. Zarkon did not think lust was an excuse to be caught unaware, and Lotor would get an earful over allowing the King's guards to sneak up on him.

"That's it..." Lotor said, breath catching in his throat as the slave's fingers touched the head of his cock. "Just like that..."

"Sire..." He nearly jumped at the polite coughing, the captain of the King's guards trying to gain his attention. "Your father wishes a word with you."

Lotor had stiffened when he heard those words, the slave's hand still holding onto his cock. He knew better than to demand she finish what he had asked of her, not with a summons from his father given to him. He had to fight not to curse, slapping the relieved slave's hands away. and adjusting his clothing so that no hint was there to betray what he had been about to do.

By the time he turned to the group of guards, they were composed as well, not even one smirk on any of their faces. It was as though they hadn't caught their prince in an indiscretion, their eyes averted to pretend they had not seen anything. The slave remained on her knees, Lotor could hear her heavy breathing, and with a growl dismissed her from his sight.

Her hurried footsteps showed how eager she was to escape, Lotor glaring at the guard captain. "What does my father want now?" He demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He wishes to speak to you of your future."

"My future?" He frowned, wondering if this was going to be another lecture about how he was failing with his studies, and devoting too much time to trying to get laid. "Fine.." Lotor sighed. "Let's get this over with..."

His grumbled out words were all it took to get the guards moving, the men escorting him through the castle. It was not to the throne room they brought him to, but to a side chamber, his father's private study, the King seated behind the desk. Lotor couldn't decide if this was better or worse, knowing he may have sacrificed a public humiliation for a long drawn out lecture from his father in private.

"Ah...perfect timing." Zarkon said, giving a dismissive wave to the guards. They left with the merest of bows, Zarkon gesturing Lotor to come towards the desk. "Arus' King has just contacted me.. ." A chuckle then, Zarkon wearing an unfamiliar expression on his face. It could have been a grimace, but Lotor realized with a start it was his father's version of a smile. "No doubt he is not pleased with having to wait to speak his mind."

"Father?" Lotor was confused, not sure why Zarkon would want to discuss the King of Arus with him.

"I want you present for this." Zarkon continued. "What I have to say to King Alfor will affect your future as well as his."

That left Lotor all the more confused, the young prince turning to face the view screen that Zarkon had lowered from the ceiling. Immediately a man's image appeared on it, a human with tan skin and brown colored hair. His blue eyes sparked with anger, the human seemed barely in control of his emotions. His lips were spread into a thin line, mouth unsmiling beneath his thick mustache.

"Ah...King Alfor..." Zarkon did not bother to speak in the Arusian's native tongue, his words in Drule. "I do apologize for keeping you waiting." A haughty sniff from this Alfor, the King looking as though he did not buy one bit of Zarkon's proffered apology. "No doubt you've received my gift?"

Lotor had to fight to keep from glancing at his father, surprise spreading through him. Since when did his father send gifts to anyone, let alone a known enemy? Even Lotor, for all his slacking off, knew of Arus and the trouble that world had caused Doom in the last two years. He knew that Arus needed to be stopped, it's king and it's people brought to heel, their resources being taken to further add the Doom Empire. Now more than ever it was important to keep on the offensive, and never betray the slightest of weakness to their most hated of enemies. That his father would try to do something nice for Arus left Lotor astounded, the boy brimming with curiosity and having to hold his tongue.

It would not do to openly question his father about his motives, Lotor keeping his expression schooled to be blank as he gazed at King Alfor. The human didn't seem to pay Lotor any attention, his eyes narrowed as he all but glared at King Zarkon.

"Yes, I have." Alfor was saying, and Zarkon made a pleased sound.

"No doubt you've called to thank me for my generosity." He chuckled then, holding up a hand to stave off whatever Alfor had been about to say. "There's no need. Just accept it, and use it well, knowing it's just the start of the things I intend to give you."

"Give me?" Alfor asked, voice a disbelieving snort. He was rightfully suspicious of this, and so was Lotor, though for different reasons. He couldn't fathom what was going through his father's mind, why Zarkon was attempting to make friends with Arus now. It was too late for their kingdoms, even if Doom was the type to make allies rather than enemies.

"Yes. There's plenty more gold where that came from. I know your world's own finances are suffering a drop lately..."

"All thanks to you!" Alfor bit out an angry retort.

Zarkon continued as though Alfor had said nothing. "You'll be able to bolster your economy, spend some of that gold on something other than military campaigns." Zarkon continued to wear that grimace that doubled as a half smile, the King leaning back in his chair. "And of course, there is your daughter to think of..."

"My daughter?" Alfor's voice was sharp then, what little control over his emotions was slipping at the mention of his daughter. "What about Allura?"

This was the first time Lotor had ever even heard of there being a princess of Arus, the boy intent on his father and Alfor's interaction. Zarkon was overly calm where Alfor was not, continuing to speak in a pleasant purr. Lotor did not like that content sound in his father's voice, he knew bad things always happened when Zarkon felt that satisfied.

"Well, she's a growing girl..." Zarkon said to Alfor. "At that ripe young age where fashion turns her head. No doubt it will be a relief to be able to buy her whatever clothing her heart desires." A casual shrug of his shoulders. "I would have sent some gowns myself, but what do I know of Arusian fashion?"

"My daughter and her wardrobe are none of your concern." Alfor retorted, and Zarkon flashed his fangs in a grin.

"Ah but she is. She and I are going to become very close you see." Alfor seemed to lose the color in his face at those words, the man taking a step towards the view screen.

"If you so much as come near her..." Began Alfor's threat, and Zarkon waved at him in a dismissive manner.

"Really Alfor...this is no time for threats." He said over the human's words. "Not when I've gone to so much trouble to show how sincere I am about wanting to be friends with you and your people."

"Our worlds can never be friends!"

"Such an automatic reply." Zarkon was hardly perturbed by it. "You haven't even given thought to the benefits of an alliance between us, have you?" He didn't wait for Alfor's answer, continuing in that seductive purr. "But I have. I've given it a great deal of consideration, and realized it was the natural progression of all our encounters."

"Oh you did, did you?" Alfor managed to sputter, Zarkon nodding.

"Yours is a powerful world...strong and capable if it's manage to keep my Empire at bay. We shouldn't keep on fighting each other, just think of what we could accomplish if we put the animosity aside and worked together? Nothing would be barred to us, the galaxy would lie open at our feet."

"I have no desire to work with you towards anything, save a permanent peace for the galaxy!"

"And you can have that peace." Zarkon retorted. "Our methods may be different, but our desires are the same. There will be peace through the Denubian galaxy, but only once the worlds have been brought to heel under the Doom Empire's boots. You can be a part of that, your world can help ease Doom's progress through the galaxy, saving countless lives in the process."

"You propose peace through war, and that is something I cannot condone." Alfor shook his head, frowning. "The galaxy was doing fine before you Drule attempted to take control of your neighbors..."

"There was war between planets long before we Drule began our conquests." Zarkon pointed out. "And even if, the Gods forbid, the Doom Empire crumbles and the Drule vanish from the galaxy, the wars will continue. You humans can be as hungry for new lands as we Drule." Alfor grimaced at that, but did not try to argue the truth of those words. "Think of it Alfor...the two years we've spent fighting could have amounted to something better...it's a crime to waste any more time battling each other...we must make an alliance..."

"I..."

"I'm well prepared with what I am willing to offer up to you..." Zarkon said, then touched the back of Lotor's head. The prince turned at that touch, shocked by the fond expression his father wore. "My son will make the perfect husband to your daughter..."

Lotor's eyes widened at that, his mouth falling open, the prince unable to keep from issuing out a protest. "Father, no!"

"Quiet Lotor!" Zarkon snapped, now looking forward to gauge King Alfor's reaction. Lotor frowned, and turned back to the view screen, seeing the human's face had gone red. But it was not a blush that was responsible for the change in color, but his anger, Alfor actually shaking violently.

"You think your son will marry my daughter?" It was hissed out question, Alfor incensed. Zarkon nodded, and the human let out a strangled sound. "You're mad! You have to be if you think I would willingly consider tying Allura to a Drule, to any Drule, let alone a brat spawned from your poisoned loins!"

"Now, now Alfor...there is no need for insults." Zarkon dropped his hand away from Lotor's hair. "I do understand what a difficult concept it is to wrap your mind around. Giving up your only child to marry a stranger. But Lotor will be good to your daughter, this I swear. And with the two bound in marriage, Arus and Doom will be united, the people benefiting from such a match."

"Ne..."

"Do think about it before you give your answer." Zarkon insisted, then smiled at something beyond Alfor. "Hello my dear child." He purred, and Lotor realized there was a young girl's head peering around the doorway. He couldn't catch a good glimpse of her, she was trying to remain unseen, even as Zarkon began urging her to step forward.

"Allura!" Alfor snapped, then switched languages from Drule to Arusian. The girl seemed to flinch, then stepped into view, Lotor's breath catching in his throat. She was one of the prettier humans he had ever had the privilege to see, with hair that fell down to mid waist, strands looking like liquid gold. Her peaches and cream complexion seemed flawless, and the colors of her dress were picked to flatter her coloring. Her eyes were two large pools of sapphire, Lotor quickly looking elsewhere to critic her form.

She was young still, not yet in the full flush of her womanhood, but already he could see the beginnings of her curves. They looked promising, the girl already having more breast than the slave he had harassed just a few minutes ago. It felt like a lifetime since he had pulled the slave down to her knees, Lotor staring at the girl, and thinking how her beauty as an adult would be soul shattering to look upon.

Suddenly a forced marriage between them didn't seem half so bad, not if Lotor was going to claim such a pretty maiden for a bride. He knew it'd be no chore to bed this girl, and he had to fight to keep from licking his lips as he stared at her. She didn't seem to notice his look, though how she could fail to feel the intensity he gave off in the moment, Lotor would never know.

Instead she was staring at her father, her own voice quiet and soft, apologetic even as Alfor angrily spoke to her. Occasionally she would lift her gaze from her father to peer at King Zarkon, and then she would look frightened. Lotor, having not bothered to learn more than a handful of words in the Arusian tongue, could not understand what Alfor was telling the princess. But he could guess, Lotor assuming he was ordering her to leave the room, and most likely reprimanding her for intruding on the call.

A distressed look appeared on the princess' face, Allura bowing her head an instant before she turned, fleeing the room. Lotor found himself taking a step towards the monitor, wanting to stop her. His hand foolishly reached forward, Lotor longing to touch her, and pull her back in the room. His reactions to the princess was not lost on Allura's father, Alfor looking at Lotor for the first time.

"My daughter..." Alfor began, switching back into Drule. "Would never, ever marry a Drule. The idea is as distasteful to her as it is to me!"

Lotor found himself blinking in surprise, wondering what was so distasteful about tying oneself to a Drule. But before he could ask Alfor that question, Zarkon was speaking.

"I'll ask you one more time to think about this before you give me your answer!" Warned Zarkon, and Alfor shook his head.

"I do not need to think any more about it! And you are a fool if you think my answer would be anything but no!" Alfor snorted then, the look on his face disgusted. "Zarkon, you can send all the money and jewels that you want, give me all the bribes that you can afford, and my answer will always be the same."

"Why?" Lotor suddenly spoke up, staring narrow eyed at the human king. "Why do you hate the idea so much? It's not as though we offer you nothing in return. Indeed we offer you everything, money, slaves, lazon...and all we ask for in return is to cement an alliance through marriage. You would be a fool to turn down what we offer..."

"No boy..." Alfor's tone was disrespectful. "I would be the bigger fool to agree to have anything to do with you and your people. You Drule are blood thirsty savages, you won't be content until you have all of the galaxy under your control. Well, you won't have Arus, or Allura, not so long as I draw breath. Arus will continue to fight you, and one day we will stamp out the last of your kind, Denubian will know peace again!"

Lotor frowned then. "What gives you the right to talk like that? To talk about exterminating my own race as though we were pests to be put down?"

"You are pests as far as I am concerned!" snapped Alfor.

Lotor felt heat flare in his face, a manifestation of his pride and anger. But before he could think up a suitable retort, Zarkon's hand landed on his shoulder, the king's signal for the prince to be quiet.

"Pests are we?" Zarkon asked, voice deceptively quiet. "That may be, but we will not be the ones to be exterminated. I want you to think of this day Alfor, think of how you could have had everything, only to spit and turn your back on it. Because one day soon, your robot will fall, and the remains of your world and your people will be assimilated into the Doom Empire!"

"That will never happen!" hissed Alfor, and now Zarkon laughed at him.

"You'll die sooner or later human. And when you do, you will know everything you worked for was all for nothing, your people enslaved or killed. And your daughter will be no different. You'll hate yourself for the lost chance you took from her, the chance to be queen of the Doom Empire!"

"Better to be a slave, than lie willingly in bed with one of you monsters!" Alfor retorted, but his face was so white with fright. Zarkon's words were getting to him, even as he tried to be remain strong.

"She'll have plenty of time to get to know us monsters!" taunted Zarkon with a laugh. "With a face as pretty as Allura's, I'm sure she'll be a popular toy to be tossed around from soldier to soldier."

Alfor looked ready to kill at that, his nostrils flaring as he opened his mouth to issue some kind of retort. But Zarkon was already pushing a button, ending the transmission so that not even the first syllable of Alfor's retort was heard.

A slow hiss was heard, Zarkon letting out an angry breath. Lotor stood staring at the blank monitor of the view screen, Alfor's angry and murderous look seared into his memory. He thought he'd never forget the amount of hatred Alfor had shown at the thought of Lotor marrying his daughter, a hatred Lotor felt he hadn't earned. Yes, his people did horrible things, but was being enslaved truly considered the better fate to being married to one of his kind?

"That human is a fool." Zarkon said, his voice angry. "You saw him Lotor. Saw how I offered him so much, only to have him spit in my-our faces!" A fist was pounded on the desk, Lotor trying not to flinch at the sound. "Disappointing, but then I knew better than to get my hopes up."

"Did you now?" Lotor asked, turning to look at his father.

"It wasn't my idea to go to him with this alliance. You can thank the council members for this humiliation." Zarkon snorted then. "They thought if we can't beat them, it's better to tie ourselves to them. I knew it would be difficult to sway him towards our side, but I hadn't expected such hatred from Alfor...him or his daughter."

"His daughter?" Lotor asked, surprised. He immediately thought of that sweet face, remembering how she had looked frightened whenever she gazed at Zarkon. But aside from the fear, there had been no other signs of negative emotion, certainly not the hatred and disgust that King Alfor had shown them.

"Ah yes..." Zarkon grimaced, another half smile on his face. "I forgot. You don't understand the Arusian tongue yet, do you?" At Lotor's confirming nod, Zarkon continued. "Alfor's brat had her own choice words to say about the idea of marrying you."

"She did?"

"Nothing good, I can assure you." Zarkon tsked. "Shocking, such a venomous tongue on one so young. No doubt she inherited her father's hatred. You're lucky Lotor. You evaded her hook. She would have made your life miserable had Alfor agreed to the union between you two."

"She didn't look like she'd make me miserable..." Lotor protested, seeing his father's eyes narrow.

"That's because you didn't understand what she was saying! She thought you ugly, a monster, and despaired at the thought of you ever touching her. She said she'd sooner slit her own wrists than marry you, and her father approved of such a thing!" A snort and a head shake followed those words, Lotor shocked.

"She really said those things?" He asked, and Zarkon nodded.

"I swear she did!" Lotor didn't know why, but he felt distraught at the idea of the princess hating him so thoroughly. It distracted him from the crafty gleam in his father's eyes, the prince never suspecting that Zarkon might not be entirely truthful in what he was telling him. "She vows to fight alongside her father when she's old enough, all in an effort to bring down our Empire."

"Well, she won't get the chance." Lotor retorted, feeling the first flash of hot anger push aside his disappointment. "I'll take her down myself if I have too! Her and her father!"

"That's good son." Zarkon said approvingly. "But to do that, you'll need to put some efforts into your lessons. You can't fight a war without the necessary knowledge. Are you prepared for the hard work needed to give you the advantage in this war?"

"Yes, father." Lotor said without hesitation, a burning need to better the princess and her world coursing through him. "I promise to learn, to do everything I can to put an end to the threat Arus poses us."

"Good." Zarkon leaned back in his seat, approval in his every look. "Then go seek out your teachers immediately." A lazy wave towards the study's door, Lotor nodding. "They'll know what to focus on to further your training."

Lotor gave a low bow to his father, before hurrying out the room, a determined look on his face. He had found the fire within him that would motivate him towards doing his best, to become not only the best ruler possible for the Drule, but also a fine commander in times of war. And it was born all on the bitter disappointment, a disappointment he did not completely understand.

But Lotor knew one thing, and it was that the princess Alllura of Arus would personally pay for this insult she and her father had given him this day. Lotor would not be content to just kill her, he wanted to own her, to make her suffer that with what she had hoped to avoid by denying the idea of marriage between them. Lotor smirked, and nearly laughed at the thought, thinking she'd be his whore instead of wife, to do with as he saw fit.

And never once did he consider that perhaps his father had lied to him, telling him stories about things the girl had not even thought of, let alone said. Lotor knew his father was a great many things, but he never thought of the Drule as a liar, least towards his own son. It might have saved a lot of trouble for all parties involved if Lotor had been at least a little suspicious of what Zarkon had told him...

To Be Continued...

Michelle

Lotor SIncline, thanks for the support. I don't really remember which chapter was the last you saw either. XD Thanks again for helping come up with the title!


	4. Chapter 4

His hands were shaking, Alfor scowling at the static filled monitor of the view screen. He found he wanted to scream, to vocalize the sheer rage that was coursing through him. But that could not be allowed, Alfor trembling from the effort to control himself. His hands were on the control panel of the monitor, he could hear the keys making a protesting whine as he pressed down hard on them.

If he wasn't careful he'd break something, and the view screen seemed the most tempting of targets. Even better would be if Zarkon's smug mug was still on it's monitor, Alfor wanted to unleash an attack against he who had upset him so.

Zarkon's words, both mocking and threatening still echoed in his ears, Alfor shuddering as he heard the Drule goading him. Zarkon had said Allura would suffer for Alfor's refusal, made into nothing more than a play thing for Drule soldiers. The thought frightened and sickened him, but more than that it angered him, Alfor's protective rage as a father being fueled.

He wasn't' sure if he was glad Zarkon had ended the transmission when he had, the human King unsure of what he would have said in response to such a depraved threat. It might have been better to get cut off before he said something supremely foolish, and yet it wasn't satisfying, Alfor wishing he could have issued his own threat to Zarkon and that brat of his.

He hadn't paid much attention to Zarkon's son, especially not during the first minutes of the call to Doom. He had thought him unimportant until Zarkon had announced his intentions to wed the boy to Allura. Worse yet, Allura had somehow managed to sneak away from his aides, the girl poking her head into the room. Alfor had seen how Zarkon's whelp had reacted to her, the boy's eyes taking on a lustful gleam as he outright leered at her.

That look frightened Alfor almost as much as Zarkon's threats, the human King knowing the Drule prince had desired his daughter. Desired her more than was healthy, the boy open with his lust. If there was one thing Alfor could do, he would protect her from that boy, and not just from Lotor, but from all the Drule. And to that he would have to continue his fight with the Doom Empire, Alfor determined to gather more and more worlds for his dream, that of a galaxy alliance.

Such an alliance would take careful planning, and more funds than Arus currently had, Alfor knowing his world was running itself ragged financing his military endeavors. Even with their exports thriving, there never was enough money, Alfor sighing. He'd have to do as Coran suggested, and start actively asking the worlds he rescued to show their gratitude in a more appreciative manner.

Of course there was one other option, one he did not even want to think about. Zarkon's gift, the Drule having sent a small fortune in an effort to lull Alfor into a compliant mood. No doubt that money and jewels were tainted, fortunes stolen from hardworking worlds that had had the misfortune to fall to the Drule's invasion. He didn't think it was right to use that money for his own purposes, nor did he feel well at the thought of returning that wealth to Zarkon.

He knew the Drule King would have no hesitations in using that money for his own purposes, and Zarkon would certainly get a sick pleasure out of the thought of using his gift to Alfor to further his own ambitions. As much as it was the right thing to do, to send the gifts back, Alfor did not want Zarkon using that wealth to fund more ships and soldiers.

He cursed, realizing he had no choice but to keep the gift, appearances be damned. He could still snub the Drule King, Alfor keeping the gift but refusing the alliance Zarkon had hoped to make. He wondered why Zarkon had even approached him with such a foolish proposal, as if Alfor would ever allow the Drule to capture all of the galaxy, even on the premise that it would bring peace to Denubian.

"He must think I am a fool!" grumbled Alfor under his breath, at last turning away from the monitor. He needed to find Coran, needed to make plans, but more than that Alfor needed to calm down. A mind in conflict would not help him to do the necessary things, Alfor taking one steadying breath after another. By the time he was taking his fifth breath, he was exiting his study, looking for his advisor.

He found him just outside the throne room, the man in a deep discussion with the captain of Alfor's guards. Alfor wondered where those guards were when Allura was sneaking out of the throne room, the man not liking that she had intruded into a private call. He might have been amused once by her curiosity, but now he simply felt horror to think Zarkon and his son had laid eyes on his innocent daughter.

"Coran." The captain bowed, then hurried away, the advisor turning to look at his king. "We need to talk."

"Ah yes, we do." Agreed Coran, face so serious and unsmiling. "There's a ship in our court yard...it's crammed full of people..."

"People?" Alfor blinked in surprise, then growled. "You mean slaves."

"Yes. We haven't had time to do a full head count, but the crowd is large enough that I would not be surprised to know it is the five hundred slaves the king of Doom sought to gift you with."

"Damn him!" Alfor muttered, and Coran raised an eyebrow at that. "Some good can come of this. I intend to free those slaves..."

"Of course sire...But there is the matter of where to put them once free...Arus is hardly suited to see to the welfare of five hundred new people...we won't be able to house them all, and with the job situation the way it is at the moment, I doubt they will be able to all find work to feed and clothe themselves." Coran sighed. "It's quite a burden Zarkon has dropped in our lap."

"We'll find a way." Alfor insisted. "If I have to, I'll employ them as soldiers and take them with me to battle Zarkon's forces."

"Are you sure that's wise?" questioned Coran. "We know nothing of these people. They could be spies, saboteurs, or assassins. Even all three."

Trust Coran to think of the negatives, Alfor frowning. "I don't think they are. But we'll have to keep a close eye on them just in case. But really, Zarkon was too intent on getting in my good favors to plant a killer among his gifts."

"How can you be so sure?" asked Coran, and Alfor took him by the arm, leading him further away from the throne room.

"I have much to tell you." Alfor said, glancing around shifty eyed in an attempt to make sure there was no one near to eavesdrop. "I've spoken with Zarkon. It did not go well."

"Hardly surprising, given the nature of your relationship wtih him." Murmured Coran. "But still. He must want something if he went to all this trouble of sending you such expensive gifts."

"Oh it's no trouble when the gifts are stolen!" snapped Alfor, bristling with annoyance. "Zarkon would never dip into his own precious coffers. Make no doubt about it Coran, the gift-bribes, are all from worlds he conquered."

"I am not surprised." Coran replied. "But no matter their origin, he wanted to impress you."

"He wanted to seduce me!" Alfor retorted, and fought not to pace from his agitation. "You can't believe what he suggested...what he wanted our two kingdoms to do."

"What?"

"He wanted us to enter into an alliance." Coran's eyes went huge at that, the man almost gaping at his king. Alfor nodded grimly. "He's a fool to think I would agree. He actually talked about attaining peace through force! Force!" Alfor snorted then. "As if the galaxy would be better off brought to heel under his control, many of the people enslaved."

Coran didn't seem to know what to say, just listening with that shocked look on his face. "I could barely keep from laughing in his face." Continued Alfor. "But that impulse was quickly squelched when he revealed just how far he was willing to go to tie Arus to Doom."

"What did he want to do?" Coran asked, and Alfor stiffened, fingers to his lip for silence. A maid walked by, pausing long enough to give a curious look to the two men, before the King waved her away.

"You must swear to me this goes no further than your ears." Alfor said, voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned into Coran's side.

"I swear it. You need never question my loyalty."

"He had his eyes on Allura!" Alfor felt himself shake, his anger not gone yet.

"Allura?" gasped Coran, and the king nodded.

"He actually wanted to marry her off!"

"To Zarkon?" Coran looked as sick as Alfor felt, the human King grateful Zarkon wasn't THAT depraved.

"Oh good gods, no. To his son!" Alfor clarified, and Coran frowned.

"I was not aware the crown prince was old enough to marry..."

"Apparently he is. He's certainly old enough to know desire." Alfor made fists, a glower on his face. "You should have seen the way he looked at Allura!"

"She was present for this?"

"She snuck into the room. Fortunately we were all speaking in Drule, so she doesn't know what that tyrant wanted for her future. As it is, I'm sure she'll have nightmares for weeks just from looking at Zarkon!" exclaimed Alfor. "I hurried her out of the room, and made it be known to both Zarkon and his son how distasteful the idea of a marriage between our children was to me...and I made sure to let them no there was no way it would happen."

"They were not pleased, were they?" asked Coran.

"Of course not. That brat of his had the gall to actually argue with me!" Alfor was grim then. "He wants her Coran...wants her in a way that disturbs me. I'm no less horrified to think of the threats Zarkon made against her when he finally got it through his thick skull the alliance wasn't going to happen."

"Do I even want to know what he said?" The advisor wondered, and Alfor shook his head no.

"Think of the most depraved thing you can imagine, than triple it. And maybe then you'd be close to knowing what Zarkon said about Allura and Arus' future."

"We cannot allow that to happen"! A horrified Coran exclaimed. "We must stop them!"

"We will. One way or another." Alfor told him. "I intend to leave immediately. I must prepare the worlds we have saved for the upcoming battles...now more than ever, it is imperative we stop the Drules from taking over the galaxy."

"Of course." Agreed Coran. "It's time to put an end to the Drule threat."

"I don't expect it to be easy." Admitted Alfor. "It will take time and resources...whole worlds will have to sacrifice in order to get the funds needed to make a move at the heart of the Doom empire. Even with our robot, we've never been able to free a world already settled by the Drule. At best we've only been able to chase them off from a world in danger of being invaded. We'll have to step up our game if we want to free those captured worlds as well..." He hesitated then. "As abhorrent as it is to me, Zarkon's gifts will come in handy."

"Sire?" Coran seemed surprise. "You mean to keep them?"

"I mean to use them." Alfor corrected him with a grim smile. "As disgusting as it is to use wealth stolen from other worlds, it would be worse to return them to Zarkon. He would have no qualms about using that fortune to fund his own armadas, and if we're going to combat him on fair ground, we need to lose our hesitation as well."

"I..I understand." Coran said at last.

"You'll help me?" Alfor asked, and Coran nodded.

"Of course. I'll get to work on cataloging the assets, and dividing them up so that they go where needed the most."

"Good." Alfor gestured for Coran to walk with him back to the throne room. "I also need you now more than ever to keep an eye on Allura. To watch over and guide her. These battles will take me from Arus, for longer and farther than I can imagine. She'll be all alone, save for those who can offer support to her. I know it won't be easy on her, her father gone for much of the time..." He sighed then wistful, knowing he should by all rights be enjoying watching his daughter grow up. "Allura can never know of Doom's threats, and that laughable alliance they proposed."

"It will be our secret." Promised Coran, and then the throne room's doors were opening. The wagon with the chests holding Zarkon's gifts were still in the center of the room, many of the Lords and ladies of the court crowded around it. They seemed to step back guiltily when they realized Alfor had returned, but the King barely paid them any mind. He was too busy seeking out Allura, spying her talking to two young girls, daughters of someone of the court.

She seemed to sense his eyes on her and turned, offering him a shy, uncertain smile. He felt a pang in his heart to see her, worry eating away at him as the threats of Zarkon echoing in his mind once more. It just firmed his resolve, Alfor knowing he would have to do everything possible to make sure Zarkon's words did not become true, the galaxy and his daughter needing to be saved from the Drules.

To be Continued!

Michelle


	5. Chapter 5

There was the constant sound of something booming, the noise so similar to thunder, but holding danger to it. With each thunderous boom, the castle seemed to shake, plaster falling off the cracked ceiling in the process. Allura held back her startled cry as she stumbled, falling against the wall. It kept her from ending up on the floor, the girl leaning heavily against the marble.

Another explosion rocked the castle, Allura waiting for the shaking to stop before she continued walking. She wanted to run, and yet with the condition of the floor, she didn't dare, Allura not wanting to stumble onto a weak spot. Already there had been a collapse on one of the upper floors, a woman falling to great injury as the floor gave out beneath her weight.

Allura wanted to avoid that happening to her, the girl taking slow, careful steps, testing the floor before walking on it. She knew it would be wiser to remain in one spot, but she couldn't stomach the waiting, Allura anxious and worried. It had little to do with the explosions bombarding the castle, and everything to do with her father, King Alfor having left the castle early in the night. And all to face the King of the Drules, those alien savages having at last reached their home world, destroying cities and killing so many people.

It was a shock to her, all that was happening, Allura hardly believing that just a scant ten hours ago the planet had been free of such devastation. But that was when their robot defender was still whole, back when Arusian ships filled the sky, fighting valiantly against the Drule invaders. She was still foggy on the details, but as night fell, an image had appeared in the sky. That of a woman, some kind of Goddess made entirely of lights. But she was no benevolent creature, the Goddess striking down the robot, tearing it apart into five pieces.

Those pieces had scattered over Arus, even now some still searched for the remains. But much of their forces were spent trying to protect the planet from the Drule, the people numb and disbelieving of what was happening. Even Allura wondered how anything could have destroyed their protector, the girl not knowing how a Goddess could side with a race as evil as these would be invaders.

"AHHH!" She cried out again, being slammed into another part of the wall. Plaster rained down on her, coating her hair. Allura coughed, and continued to move, worrying that the castle would not hold up much longer from the treatment it was receiving. At this rate there'd be no home for her father to return to, and that was even assuming he was alive to come back to it.

"NO!" She shook her head, knowing she mustn't think like that, mustn't doubt his survival. Her father would defeat the Drule King, put an end to this nightmare, and peace would return. Not just to Arus, but to all of the Denubian Galaxy. She just had to stay positive, Allura inching her way forward at a snail's pace.

Much of this floor was empty, the few people that remained in the castle busy elsewhere. She knew her cousin Romelle was on one of these floors, and she wished to find the girl. It would make the waiting more bearable to be in the company of her cousin, Allura needing to talk to someone, needing that distraction. She felt pity that Romelle had chosen to visit her at such an awful time, but then no where on Arus was safe. The attacks were occurring in all the cities spread across the planet, many of them wasted to nothing. Romelle would be no safer in her own kingdom than she was here in Allura's home, and at least the castle was managing to keep from crumbling completely.

A new crack appeared in the ceiling, as though taunting her thoughts. Each crack and hole worried her anew, Allura knowing they was just this much closer to dying. But the call to evacuate never came, not when there was no place to run to. She shivered and sighed, reaching the staircase, Allura letting her shaking hands grip the railing as she inched down the steps.

By the time she made her torturous climb down to the main floor, she heard shouts, people sounding more horrified than excited. She didn't know what was going on, but didn't hurry towards the voices. Not until she heard Coran's familiar voice, the man shouting out something that had Allura gasping.

"Alfor, my King!"

Her father was back! Joy uplifted her heart, even as her mind whispered that the bombings should have stopped upon his return. She ignored that whisper, gathering her skirts, and running through the halls, no longer caring about the danger as she rushed towards the front gates of the castle.

And abruptly stopped when she saw her father, King Alfor laying on a gurney that three soldiers labored to hold up. All were in bad shape, clothes torn and dirty, and one was bleeding profusely. But it didn't compare to the amount of blood her father was losing, great big puddles on the floor beneath him, and soaking through the gauzy bandages wrapped around his chest.

There was more on his arms, and one thick bandage wrapped around his left thigh. They didn't bleed anywhere as badly as his chest wounds, Allura staring, unaware she had issued a scream.

"Father!"

Immediately Coran turned to her, he looked astonished than chagrined to see her. "Princess! You mustn't be here!" He snapped, moving to stand in front of the gurney. "Return to your room at once."

"Father!" Allura ignored Coran, shoving at him to get a better look at Alfor. "What happened?" She knew then how foolish a question she had asked, Allura realizing he must have lost his duel with the Drule King.

Coran refused to budge, catching at her arms as she continued to shove him. "Allura, you shouldn't see this."

"Let me go!" Allura retorted, wet, hot tears blurring her vision. "I have to be near him. I have to...have to see him!"

"Allura..." Her father's voice, breath rasping out with a wet sucking sound. It spoke of the damage to his lungs, Allura shuddering, then screaming.

"He needs a doctor!"

"Child...it's too late for that..." whispered Coran, and Allura reared back, slapping him across the face.

"NO!" She railed, and Coran looked stunned by her attack. "It's not too late. He still lives! He can still talk...!" She shoved the shocked Coran aside somehow, and collapsed to her knees besides the gurney. She reached for Alfor's hand, noting the fine tremble that shook it, Allura lacing fingers with her father. "Father, it's okay..." She tearfully said, trying to be brave. "You're home now...Doctor Gorma will tend to you, and everything will be fine."

"I failed you..." Alfor whispered, opening his eyes long enough to look at Allura. "I failed Arus."

"No, you did not." Allura tried to reassure him, bending to kiss the back of the hand she held.

"I did." He insisted. "I played right into his trap...let him ambush me..."

"Ambush?" Allura echoed, and it was one of the soldiers who answered.

"The Drule King never showed. That scum." He spat to the side of the gurney, looking disgusted. "It was his soldiers that was laying in wait for us. The lot of them overpowered us, and ganged up on your father...stuck him with their swords, as though he was nothing more than an animal..."

"Enough!" Coran snapped. "The princess doesn't need to hear this..."

"Yes, I do!" Allura retorted, glaring though her anger was for the Drule. "I deserve to know what they did to my father...Oh father, rest now...we will get you to Doctor Gorma, and all will be well..."

"It's too late for me..." Alfor said, and she cried out a no. "I can feel myself dying..."

"Father no!" Allura protested. "Don't leave me..."

"I don't want too!" He said, but even his words lacked force to them. "But I've lost too much blood, suffered too many wounds...something is broken inside of me...leeching away the last of my strength..."

"Just try to hold on...Gorma..."

"Gorma will do nothing..." Alfor insisted, earning a despairing moan from Allura. "At least not for me. But there are others that he can help...let him..." She realized he was referring to the soldiers holding up his gurney, but Allura stubbornly refused to let them abandon her father.

"No..you just hold tight...we'll get you to Doctor Gorma." She turned to glare at the soldiers now. "What are you waiting for? Take him to the doctor!"

"Yes, princess!" came the hasty reply, Allura trying to let go of her father's hand. His hold turned strong, the man gripping her hand.

"There's not much time left...you must leave..." Alfor was saying, and seem to grow frantic at her head shake. "You must! You don't want to know what the Drules will do to you..."

"I can guess..." She answered grimly.

"Allura, you have no idea!" insisted Alfor. "That King and his son...they have plans for you...horrific plans...but I still don't regret anythign I've done...I just wish I had been strong enough, wise enough to keep Arus out of their hands..."

"Father?"

"Coran take her." Alfor said, turning his head to the side so he could squint at his advisor. "Take her and run. Leave this place..."

"There's no place to run to!" Allura interrupted. "Everywhere on Arus is ether under attack or destroyed!"

"Then you must leave Arus!" Alfor snapped, and she was shocked. She could barely imagine leaving her castle, let alone her home world. She had never even been to the other side of the planet, and the thought of leaving Arus to go to another world was shocking to say the least. "Promise me!" Alfor choked on his breath, blood bubbling out of his mouth, horrifying Allura. "Promise me..." he repeated weakly, closing his eyes. "Keep her out of the hands of the Drules..."

"I'll do my best." Coran swore.

"We all will." Spoke up one of the soldiers.

Alfor seemed to relax, though he was still doing that awful coughing. "Allura, daughter...I love you. Always remember that..."

"I will father. I..." His fingers had gone limp, he no longer gripped her hand with any amount of force. Her vision blurred, Allura trying not to sob as she gripped his hand and cried out to him. "Father! No! Father, don't you dare! Don't you die on me!" There was no response, Coran reaching to pull her away from the gurney. "NO!"

"Princess...I am sorry..." Coran said, voice resonating with his sorrow. "Your father...his soul...it's departed this plane..."

She was openly screaming now, weeping and shaking, beating her fists against Coran's chest. Now more than ever she hated the Drules, hated them for all the times they had stolen away her father from her side in the last five years. Allura was eighteen now, and she had barely spent any time with her father, and knew now she would never get the chance again.

"Princess Allura there is no time..." Coran was hugging her awkwardly, enduring her fists pounding on his chest. "We must find your cousin and leave this place at once..."

"No!" Allura snapped, and forced her way free of Coran's awkward embrace. "Not until I have my revenge!"

"Revenge?" gasped Coran, and shook his head. "Be reasonable princess...what can we do? There's little chance of surviving, let alone hopes of paying the Drules back for what they've done."

She didn't care, Allura spinning about, and rushing towards the nearest stair case. She could heard Coran shouting after her, trying to entice her with the idea that they had to survive long enough to one day make a bid to free Arus from the Drules. She didn't care about that in the moment, only focused on revenge, and making the Drules suffer a loss as great as hers.

Uncaring if she fell through the floor, and ignoring Coran's shouts, she ran up the stair case. She could hear Coran's footsteps, the man chasing after her alone. The guards were too injured to join in the pursuit, and Allura could only hope they would stay to watch over her father's body. A sob issued out of her, the girl realizing that if they left now, they'd never have the chance to give Alfor a proper burial. And that was something unacceptable to Allura.

She ran faster and higher, floor nearly giving out beneath her foot at one point. She heard Coran swear, the man having to side step the hole in the floor, and that delayed him further. She didn't care, rushing onto the third floor landing, and heading for the closest tower. It was there she would find a weapon, one of the castle's turret mounted laser guns.

Coran realized her intent to late, screaming at her to stop, that it was too risky. Allura continued to ignore him, stepping out into the open, and pushing the dead body off of the turret gun's seat. It was still powered up, with more than half it's charge, and she took her seat behind it. She stared up at the sky, at the many ships that were there, and screamed, letting all her grief and her rage manifest in that sound.

"Die you filthy Drule Scum!" She snarled, and began flipping switches, firing off a few rounds of lasers. That immediately drew attention to her, Allura glaring up at the ships, mocking them to fire on her. "I want you all to die!" She screamed, having no way of knowing if they could even hear her words.

"Princess Allura, stop this foolishness at once!" Coran had appeared in the tower's doorway, the man too frightened to step out in the open. She refused to acknowledge him, weeping bitterly as she fired wild and random shots at the Drule ships. A few returned fire, the blasts hitting the tower's roof, and all around her. She didn't know why the lasers didn't come close to touching her, and she didn't care, Allura determined to take out as many Drule as she could before they killed her.

To her satisfaction, she hit a ship, the star cutter spiraling out of control. A dark plume of smoke followed it's downward descent, she could see the flames eating at the metal. She laughed then, and fired again, muttering curses and threats, railing against the Drule and the fate they had delivered to her father.

"Allura please..." begged Coran, dropping her title. "Come back inside...we have to find your cousin..."

She thought she was beyond caring, so focused on bringing down as many Drule ships as she could. Not even the thought of Romelle somewhere in the castle, frightened and terrified, calmed her fury, Allura gritting her teeth and opening fire once more. And then it happened, a ship suddenly rose up before her, sleek black metal with curved wings resembling a bat. It barely had enough room for two people to sit inside, and it was close enough that she could see the pilot and him her.

She reacted with shock, recognizing the Drule guiding the ship. It had been three years since she had caught a glimpse of his face, and he had time to mature from boy to man. His white hair was longer now, well past his shoulder blades, and his eyes seemed to lock onto hers. Some foreign emotion flickered in his gaze, his lips quirking in amusement at seeing her behind the turret gun.

Her shock faded at his insolent smirk, Allura screaming as she forced the turret gun to aim dead center at his ship. It was fighting her, she didn't have the strength to move it around as well as a man might have. The Drule narrowed his eyes at her, his lips parting as he shouted some order at her. She couldn't hear what he was saying over the roar of the lasers, just aware that this was Lotor, crown prince of the Drule, and that he deserved to die for what his people had done to her father.

A blast hit the wing of his ship, but it wasn't a damaging blow. The Drule prince seemed to sneer at her, and she saw him adjusting levers on the control panel. Coran rushed forward, at last getting over his fear to try and reach her. It was then that the Drule prince open fired on them, lasers shooting past Allura to slam into Coran's chest. She screamed, watching as he stiffened, than dropped to the ground, her fingers going limp on the turret gun's triggers.

"Coran..." She whispered, and somehow found the strength to climb out of her seat, and hurry to his side. She turned him over, cradling his head on her lap, exerting tenderness and care towards him. To her horror she noted his skin was smoking where the lasers had slammed him, and a fresh wave of tears fell from her eyes. "No...not you as well...you can't leave me..."

Coran was beyond speaking, his expression frozen into that same fearful one he had worn when trying to reach her. She wept harder to see it, so confidant he was dying, and knew that it would be all her fault if he did die now. So consumed was she with her own private grief, she didn't even notice that no one was firing down on her. Nor did she look up when a hatch opened on the side of the ship, a figure emerging from it.

It wasn't until a shadow fell over her, Allura sniffling as she looked up to see a man standing over her. Her expression instantly twisted into hate, Allura correcting herself. It wasn't a man she saw, but a beast, a Drule, and he deserved as much of her hate as any of the others did.

With a wild scream, she lunged to her feet, Coran's body awkwardly being dumped on the floor of the tower. She didn't think beyond trying to kill this Drule, Allura all but leaping into his arms as she began beating her fists against his chest. He said nothing to her, Lotor merely grabbing her arms, enduring her poundings. She sobbed as she did this, rage subsiding to give in to grief as she sagged against him.

"I hate you!" Weakly, she still struck at his chest, but she was rapidly losing her strength. She would have fallen to her knees if not for his support, Allura wearily leaning into him. She continued to cry, sobbing her heart out, then got the surprise of her life when he hauled her up on tip toe. Without warning, he was kissing her, forcefully thrusting his tongue inside her mouth to garner the taste of her.

Allura had no experience with being kissed like this, the girl lacking the energy to do more than the slightest of squirms. She choked on a scream, and then was doing the only option left to her, Allura fainting dead away.

To Be Continued...

Michelle


	6. Chapter 6

There was a thin trickle of dust and plaster falling from the ceiling. It fell steadily to the floor, making a small pile that was constantly disturbed, soldier's foot prints smashing into and around it. It wasn't the only sign of the ceiling's impending collapse, all over Sabbath could note the many cracks and wide openings, wires hanging downwards like a stomach's intestines.

The castle was a wreck, unstable and close to completely falling apart. Pillars were toppled over, one less thing supporting the roof of the building, and all the windows' glass had shattered. Dirt littered everywhere, as well as bodies, the humans who had made this building their home falling to laser and Drule steel. Sabbath himself was just finishing dispatching some foolish soldier who had lunged out of a darkened alcove, the man stupid enough to think he could win in a fight with a Drule.

He barely acknowledged the man, sword digging in deep into the cavity of his chest. He could hear the human gurgling, blood being coughed up. Some of it might have even gotten on Sabbath, but he didn't mind. He was already marked with the blood of a dozens of soldiers, all humans he had encountered as he made his way through the castle. These humans who guarded it didn't seem to realize they had already lost the war, that the castle was now claimed by the Drule, and any who remained were left to be their prey.

Not many of the humans inside the castle would be allowed to live, especially not the soldiers. Able bodied though they were, these men and women who fought so valiantly for their world would never break, never deign to suffer the life of a slave. They would constantly fight the Drule, refuse to acknowledge them as their masters, even seek to lead uprisings against them in a desperate bid to regain their freedom. And that couldn't be allowed.

With a sigh, Sabbath so weary of all this fighting, jerked his blade out of the dead soldier's body. It immediately collapsed to the floor, moving as though boneless. The eyes stared up at Sabbath in accusation, but he felt no guilt. He was just doing his job, his duty to his empire.

With that duty in mind, he stepped forward, walking carefully on the damaged floor. There were whole sections of it gone, the floor having collapsed so he could see down to the floor beneath this one. Occasionally a human solider would appear and fire up at him, Sabbath having to deflect the attack with his sword. Lazon made an excellent reflective material, bouncing lasers off it's surface and back to the sender.

It was quicker to just shoot them, Sabbath having two accompanying subordinates that quickly leapt to their Commander's defense. These two relied more on pistols set to kill, rather than fight in close quarters with a blade. It mattered not what they used, the end result was always the same, human soldiers dead or dying, the Drule victorious.

And more would die, Sabbath leading part of the clean up crew that moved through the castle. They would route out any humans that hid, kill the ones who looked like trouble, and makes slaves of the remainder. It was all too easy, and almost mindless work, a break from the hard fighting he had been a a part of during the last few hours when Doom began a full out assault all over Arus.

At first the battling had been difficult, Arus and Doom far too evenly matched. Doom had brought forth the entirely of the Empire's might, every ship, soldier and weapon called into battle. With their forces spread over all of Arus, even with Voltron, the humans hadn't been able to drive off the Drule. They had been forced to pick and choose one small section of a large planet to defend, Voltron fighting desperately to destroy as many Doom ships as it could.

For what seemed like hours, Sabbath and his ship had held back, watching as those lower in the chain of command fought and died on Voltron's sword. Quite a number of Drule soldiers died, mere grunts that's only role had been to be cannon fodder against Voltron's attacks. It made the Arusians cocky, the humans thinking they would win, even if it was a slow going eventuality.

That was before Haggar and several other witches had unleashed their surprise, conjuring enough power to lure Voltron to it's destruction. Sabbath would never forget the image of Haggar, the beauty magnified in size ten thousand times over. The light of the combined witches and warlocks power had made her glow, her skin losing it's dark purple hue to the white light. She had looked like some human Goddess, but there had never been a more malevolent minded God then Haggar, the witch using the power she siphoned off her allies to strike the robot down.

A cheer had gone up over the airwaves, the Drules going wild as they saw Arus' defender separated into several pieces. Each piece hurtled in a different direction, slamming back to it's world of origin in a wave of heat. Sabbath wouldn't be surprised if the metal of the robot had melted, Voltron deserved no less for all the Drules it had killed in these past five years.

He had lost friends to Voltron's sword, good men that had become his brothers in arms through the years. They hadn't deserved to die in such an ignoble fate, killed by a creation of the humans, and looked down upon by the Drules. Those who had died, weren't given hero's deaths, they were practically ignored, in some cases reviled for failing. Sabbath was relieved no more Drules would die by the robot's hand, his sword twirling as he decapitated the newest soldier to lunged out of the shadows towards him.

He barely looked at the man he had just killed, likening the human soldiers to pests. Troublesome but ultimately disposable, Sabbath stepping over the body and continuing his trek down the hall. From a faint distant away he could hear what sounding like shouting, and even fainter a woman's shrill scream. He frowned at that, knowing from the mocking quality of the men's shouts that it was beyond a simple killing they were doing.

He proceeded forward, taking the time to dispatch two more human soldiers. He was surprised that none of them thought to drop their weapons and pretend to be harmless, but then these soldiers had a Drule's warrior pride, preferring to fight to the death rather than be thought weak and enslaved. It didn't make them any less dead, Sabbath shaking out his sword so that the blood fell off the blade in thick, gooey drops.

The shouting was louder, and there was no doubt about it, the men were making sport of a woman. Sabbath growled annoyed, knowing there wasn't time for this kind of nonsense. His orders had been strict, go through the castle and hunt down any soldiers, kill them and secure the rest. Under no certainty were they to stop and abuse a woman, no matter how tempting a morsel she might prove to be.

The two soldiers with him were his shadow, following silently. He didn't know what was on their mind, they were wise to keep their own council about what their comrades were doing. Creeping carefully forward, Sabbath noticed the holes in the floor had increased in number here, until he was standing at the edge of one wide enough for five men to drop down in at once.

And literally beneath the hole was his men, slacking off as they made prey of a woman. He didn't see her face at first, but he noticed the straight, waist length hair, strands a beautiful golden color that was not dulled even by the plaster that coated it and her blue dress. She had a regal bearing to her, even as she cringed and cowered, lunging away from the reaching hands that pulled and grabbed at her arms.

A great ripping sound was heard, a large segment of her skirt being torn. The soldiers continued to laugh and taunt her, words a mixture of Drule and Arusian as they called her all manner of names. She seemed to snarl back at them, and though her words were not obscene, she came up with her own colorful insults for the Drules. It only served to amuse the soldiers, they were laughing, intrigued by her foolish bravado.

A shriek was heard as her waist was snagged by one Drule in particular, a reddish purple brute who hauled her in for a kiss. Sabbath caught sight of angry, blue eyes and found himself reacting beyond mere annoyance at his men. Those eyes seemed to call to him, though he had only seen a brief flash of them, and the girl hadn't even been aware of him.

She pulled back from the Drule who had forced a kiss on her, her hand flying forward to land a resounding smack across his cheek. The Drules went silent at that, and she sensed the mood had turned even more hostile.

"That hurt." Said the brute who had kissed her, and he cocked his head from side to side, neck making cracking sounds. Her sun kissed skin seemed to pale, she was trying to take a step back when another Drule snagged hold of her blonde hair. Sabbath saw him jerk on it hard, throwing the girl to the floor, and instantly she was lost from sight, several male bodies lunging forward to cover her.

All Sabbath could see was her failing arms and legs, and hear their laughter, and the sound of her clothing being further torn. She was shrieking, but then it was muffled, and his mind vividly supplied what could have been used to silence her screams.

All this happened in an instant, Sabbath tensing, a low, angry growl erupting from deep within his chest. What happened next was truly an out of body experience, Sabbath grunting a command to the two soldiers behind him.

"Stay here!"

"What are you going to do General?" One asked, then gasped as Sabbath leapt downwards into the hole. The Drule soldiers were so intent on trying to pry open the girl's legs, they didn't even look up at the thud that accompanied Sabbath's landing. A part of him noticed this, Sabbath snarling over how sloppy his men were. But more than that he felt angry, not liking how they were treating this woman, and neglecting their orders.

With another growl, he stalked over to the group, and grabbed a green scaled Drule from the huddle. Hauling him back, the green Drule snarled and turned to punch him. The punch never landed, the Drule staring in shock at the sight of Sabbath.

"Commander!"

A brutal back hand across his face, the Drule being rocked to the side from the force. His shocked cry wasn't enough to get the other men's attention, they had quickly closed in the space around the girl. Sabbath gritted his teeth, and jerk another one back by his hair, and it was all he could do not to take his sword and slice open that Drule's throat.

He saw the girl's waist, her dress torn down to reveal her stomach, the remains of her skirts up high enough to reveal she still wore her panties. But with claws pulling at the ties, she wouldn't for long, Sabbath throwing another Drule across the room. By this point, the two soldiers from above had landed in the room, and together they worked to help their commander pull the remaining Drules away from the girl.

She lay there stunned, face tear streaked, body trembling. He crouched protectively in front of her, staring at her face. No doubt about it, she was the princess of Arus, and the one woman the prince had forbidden them to abuse. That alone should have been the motivation for Sabbath's actions, but he felt a foreign emotion as he looked at this abused girl. He wanted to PROTECT her, and he didn't understand why, nor did he understand the reason why a possessive word came to mind whenever he looked into her unaware eyes.

_~Mine.~_ His mind growled, and he tried not to frown. She could never be his, she would be at best be used by his prince, and when Lotor was through with her, she'd be tossed to the soldier barracks, just another whore to be used.

"What the hell do you think you are all doing?" He demanded out loud, fist clenching on the handle of his sword. "I gave you implicit orders! You were to secure the castle! No distractions!"

"But commander..." One Drule was fool enough to whine at him. "We thought..."

His head went flying, Sabbath shocked he was angry enough to make such a deadly example of one of his own men. The Drules before him all looked just as shocked, Sabbath wasn't known for the deadly temper tantrums their prince was prone to.

"No excuses." Sabbath snarled. "This castle is far from secure. And I will not have you stop for fun and games, no matter what type of woman you come across!" A muttered yes sir was his answer, the Drules bowing their heads, and shuffling sheepishly from the room. One dared to look back at the girl, and Sabbath had to fight to keep from growling, finding he wanted to launch himself forward and attack this man.

He maneuvered himself so that he was blocking the view of her, and the soldier took one look at his angry face and wisely departed. That left Sabbath alone with the princess, and his two most trusted soldiers, but damn if he didn't wish he was alone with her himself. Though to do what he did not know, Sabbath looking down at her heaving chest.

He felt ashamed to feel arousal course though him as he gazed on her full and heavy breasts. Her nipples looked red, far too many pinches of her flesh leaving bruises on her skin. His first impulse was to offer her the tunic of his uniform, but he squashed that impulse of kindness, telling himself she meant nothing to him. "Get up." He said out loud, and she didn't respond.

"I said get up!" He snapped, nudging her legs harshly with his foot. That got her to look at him, her eyes showing she was not so far gone as to have her mind broken by her ordeal. And yet she still wasn't moving, leaving Sabbath to snarl in frustration. She actually flinched at the sound, which made him feel guilty, Sabbath bending downwards to reach for her.

At the last possible second she sat up, and slapped HIM across the face. "Don't touch me!" He was stunned, more so by the slap than her command, Sabbath narrowing her eyes at her.

"That's a good way to get killed." He told her, and grabbed her arm, roughly hauling her up off the floor. She began fighting him, and it did interesting things to her chest, breasts bouncing about without any support whatsoever. He gnashed his teeth together, and told himself not to look, Sabbath ignoring the blows her fists landed on his arm and chest.

He hauled her in close, and she gasped, an insult flying from her lips. "You beast!" No doubt about it, she had survived the near gang rape just fine, with all her wits about her.

Ignoring her insult, and the temptation to kiss her mouth closed, he threw her across his shoulder. For a second she just hung there, and then she shrieked. Wild screams erupted form her, hurting his delicate hearing, her legs and fists flailing about. She pounded her hands against his back, and even grabbed hold of some of his braided hair, jerking hard on it. He winced, and slapped her panty covered ass hard, hearing her squeak in indignation.

"Let's go." He said to the two amused soldiers who just stood there watching them. He couldn't blame them for being amused, though he didn't like it. He knew he should be putting this woman in her rightful place for treating him so, and yet he couldn't bring himself to really hurt her. But he could threaten, and he did so, Sabbath gruff as he spoke.

"A spank on the ass will be the least of your problems if you don't settle down!"

Another loud gasp from her, she seemed shocked by what he said. But was it enough to get this hellion to behave long enough for him to find Prince Lotor and hand her over to him? A few feet out the door, and it proved too weak a threat, the princess screaming and kicking, pulling on his hair once more.

It attracted humans, Sabbath wondering where the cowards had been when she was being assaulted. He drew his sword with the hand that wasn't holding her trapped on his shoulder, and awkwardly but efficiently slayed two of the five men. The soldiers shadowing him killed the remaining three with their lasers, and they continued to walk through the corridors of the castle.

The human princess continued to shriek, more intent on cursing them than calling for help. Sabbath thought she'd pull his hair out by the roots, so brutal was she with her grabs. Not even another slap on her pert bottom was enough to calm her fury, she was a handful that would take ten Drule warriors to hold down. He was amazed that such a frail looking human woman could give such trouble, but also knew because of the fight in her, it had kept her from being completely raped before he could pull his men off her.

He both admired her for that fight, and was annoyed by it, Sabbath wishing she would just sag into a helpless, quiet state for even just one minute. But that was wishful thinking, her fire and determination proving the princess of Arus was anything but docile. He was gritting his teeth, jaw clenched as they reached what had to be the castle's command center, Sabbath jerking his head at the door.

Immediately one of his soldiers hurried to open it, and they heard the sound of other Drules talking. The princess didn't quiet at first, not until the number of voices registered with her. She was doing one last pull on his hair, kicking out her shapely legs when an amused voice spoke.

"Problem commander?"

"Prince Lotor!" Sabbath almost gasped in surprise, so harried was he by the girl on his shoulder. He quickly moved to bow, an awkward move considering the struggling girl he was holding.

"Rise Commander." Ordered Lotor, and Sabbath did so, and pulled the princess off his shoulder. Lotor looked her over, and she seemed to glare back at him, angry and haughty. "Who's this?" Lotor asked, and Sabbath blinked.

"Why...it's the princess of Arus..." Sabbath said, and hesitated. "Isn't it?"

"The princess of Arus is currently secured, and on my command ship." Lotor answered. "I know not who this wench is, save she bears a striking resemblance to Allura."

"I am Princess Romelle, Allura's cousin!" The girl announced, her voice holding as much anger as hatred in it. "And I order you to free Allura, and leave this planet at once!"

Raucous laughter erupted from the Drules in the room, Lotor looking amused. "You're in no position to order me around. In fact..." He leaned in close to her, the distance far too intimate for the words he was about to say. "You should be on your knees begging me for my leniency for your people and your cousin."

"I would never, ever beg the likes of you!" This Romelle retorted, and actually spit in Lotor's face. The room seemed to go silent at that, Lotor stepping back as he calmly wiped his face with one gloved hand. He then wiped it clean down the side of her face, his expression cold as he spoke.

"I have no use for this one. She's just a lesser princess, ruler of some pitiful kingdom of Arus that has most likely already been wiped off the face of the planet."

"You may have destroyed our cities, but you'll never destroy the hope of the people, or our fighting spirit!" Romelle snapped out in reply. "We will fight you, and we will find a way to get rid of you Drule. King Aflor will..." She trailed off at the laughter, Lotor and the other Drules amused.

"Your King is dead." Lotor informed her, a smirk on his face. "Died like the miserable human he is. And with him, all hopes of that galaxy alliance were destroyed. There's no one left to stop the Drule, and no one to save you." He turned then, looking at his men, most of whom were staring at Romelle's near naked state. Sabbath tightened his hands possessively on her arms, not liking the hungry looks she was receiving.

"I think you men have earned a reward for your hard work." Lotor was saying, and Sabbath filled with dread. "May she be the first of your spoils here on Arus!"

"No..." whispered Romelle, getting his meaning immediately. "NO!"

The Drule soldiers were licking their lips, and some were already shrugging out of their armor, eyes intent on the princess. Others didn't bother to shed their clothing, already walking towards Sabbath and the girl, intent on taking her from him.

"Sire no!" Sabbath protested, and Lotor turned, a surprised look on his face. "That is...don't you think this is too cruel? There are so many, and she is but one girl..."

"Are you...concerned for her?" asked Lotor, and Sabbath hesitated.

"Not at all." A voice inside him protested the lie.

"Then why?" Lotor prodded, and again he hesitated.

"I..."

"Could it be you want first go at her?" Lotor asked, and Sabbath could feel the violent trembling Romelle was doing. All her bravery had fled at the thought of being raped, the girl losing her voice to cower in his arms.

"No..."

"Then why keep her from being of use to us?" demanded one of the Drules, Sabbath quick to note he was a higher ranking soldier than most of those present.

"It's a good question." Lotor arched an eyebrow, waiting for Sabbath to say something. "If you don't intend to keep her for yourself, then you must give her up to those willing to make use of her."

"Keep her for myself?" echoed Sabbath, feeling as though his IQ had lost several points. "You mean...make her my slave?" He had slaves at home, but they were the type limited to doing his household chores. He couldn't imagine keeping a slave for his bed, especially this girl. And yet something in his chest ached at the thought of handing her over to become a whore of the soldiers.

The girl was trembling, Romelle surely though she'd be raped no matter what his decision was. He couldn't even offer her comfort, such an attempt would be seen as a sign of weakness on his part.

"All right." Sabbath said, and allowed a nervous flick of his tongue across his lips. "I want to claim her as my own." That one soldier gave him an angry look, he didn't like that his fun had been stolen away from him.

"Very well commander." Lotor nodded at him, expression unreadable. "Then she's yours...for good or bad."

Romelle seemed to sag into him, only his grip on her arms kept her upright. Truth be known, Sabbath felt close to sagging himself, the Drule hardly believing he had been given a slave. At not just any slave, but this girl, this former princess, a woman who rose protective instincts in him even as he fought back annoyance at some of her actions. What's more, he wasn't sure what to do with her now that he had her as his property, Sabbath not as rape minded as some of the other soldiers.

He was still trying to decide what to do when Lotor walked away from him, Sabbath realizing that the disappointed soldiers were still staring lustfully at Romelle. He let his possessiveness show now that he knew she was not Lotor's property, Sabbath bearing his fangs as he hauled the girl behind him. Most of the men wisely turned away, though he caught a few amused looks from some. And one very angry high ranking soldier who crossed his arms over his chest, blatant in his attempt to gaze on Romelle. Sabbath heard himself growl, and had to fight to keep from launching himself across the room, the man wanting to throttle the other Drule for his insolence.

A glance at the near naked Romelle, and Sabbath grew even more tense. He may not know what he was going to do with her exactly, but one thing was for sure. She had to be covered adequately, so that no man would see her body, and risk Sabbath's killing wrath. The fact that he could want to kill for such a simple thing as looking at her made him worried, Sabbath wondering just how much trouble Romelle was going to make for him.

This was a chapter that I could not find a good spot to end...it kept wanting to go on and on. And it didn't go down exactly how I first imagined it either. X_X

To Be Continued!

Michelle


	7. Chapter 7

It had been a busy ten hours, the ships of his Empire fighting a hard battle, all in an effort to at last put an end to the threat that Arus poised. For much of that fighting, Lotor had held back, his ship along with several other command vessels laying in wait for the perfect opportunity. It wouldn't come soon enough for Lotor's liking, the prince impatient for Haggar and her coven to do their job. He didn't like magic very much, but he could admit it had it's uses.

Especially when it came to destroying a pesky robot, Lotor watching as Voltron was seared by the gathered magical might of Haggar's witches. That spell had been powerful, arching towards the robot, and causing it to explode. What had been left was only five large pieces, each one burning with an orange glow as they hurtled in different directions. Even if the pieces did not melt upon reentry into Arus' atmosphere, there was no way the humans would have time to rebuild the robot, and with it went their defense which rapidly failed them.

It had been a laughable sight, watching the humans try to recover from the loss of their defender. For the first twenty minutes following Voltron's destruction, the Arusian ships had been slow to react, some crashing into each other, as they frantically moved across the battle field. The Empire's own ships did not mimic such stupidity, moving in slow and careful, and taking down Arusian war vessels.

They gained ground in droves, the Arusians being destroyed, dozens dying every few seconds. It was a similar situation all over the planet, the word of Voltron's defeat being spread across the airwaves, causing the humans to lose morale. The fighting only intensified, the Drules pressing the advantage, decimating ship after ship, and moving closer to the planet.

Of course there had been cracks in the human's defense, even with Voltron still in one piece. They simply did not have enough ships to form a wide enough net to prevent the Drules from sneaking past, the Doom vehicles targeting the surface. Many cities were destroyed, bombs blasting, and fires raging. Monsters known as robeasts were unleashed, the creatures worked up to a fierce rage that had them rampaging in the city streets.

It was Zarkon's will that Arus be blasted back into the stone age, and the Drules were only too eager to do this for their king. Many harbored private grudges against the Arusians, remembering how friends and family had died in the war between the two worlds. A war that had lasted five years. The people of Arus had many Drule lives to account for, and the deaths of the humans on this day couldn't begin to make up for the losses the Doom Empire had suffered.

They all had grudges, even Lotor, the prince thinking back to a moment that had occurred three years ago. Back then he had still been a boy, not even old enough to have his own harem. He had been so desperate back then for a woman, he cringed now as he recalled how he thought any would do. He had never appreciated his position, the rights he should have, and how he should not have lowered himself to sleep with just anyone. Now he had his pick of women, and only the most beautiful would do, Lotor selecting the loveliest of slaves to warm his bed nightly.

But, and this he was loathe to admit, none seemed to compare in beauty to the princess of Arus, Allura growing only more lovely as she matured in years. Even when she had looked at him with sheer and utter hatred in her eyes, he had been taken aback by how beautiful she was. The reality of her could not compare to the pictures Doom's spies had taken for him of her, she was absolutely gorgeous, a golden haired Goddess that could tempt just about any man into sinning with her.

Even when she was crying, tears leaking down her face, he had been enamored of her. He had harkened back to the call of three years ago, remembering his first sight of a fifteen year old Allura. Even then she had moved something in him, to the point he had become obsessed with her, with getting his hands on her. He had hoped the reality of her would reveal some imperfection, would somehow lessen the hold her looks had on him. But they had not, Lotor being moved to do something foolish, ignoring the potential danger to kiss her then and there.

She hadn't responded to his kiss, not in any of the predictable fashions. She had neither screamed, nor tried to bite down on his tongue. Instead she had fainted, acting like the weak willed human these Arusians were rumored to be. He had almost felt disappointed in her collapse, but knew he didn't have time to properly play with her. Not with the castle needing to be secured, Alfor be he alive or dead, reclaimed.

There would be time for a reckoning with the princess later, Lotor pausing only long enough to secure her and the man he had shot. That mustached human was not dead, and Lotor was counting on him being a valuable bargaining tool for the princess' good behavior. He had seen how she reacted to the man's injuries, she cared for him, a thought that nearly drove Lotor mad with jealousy. He didn't want her forming attachments to anyone, even as he knew how valuable they would be towards gaining her compliance.

He joined his men on a search through the castle, Lotor helping to ferret out any servants who were hiding. Many had fled the castle, foolishly thinking their chances would be better off in the woods. They didn't know the Empire's soldiers were prowling the land, searching for any and all humans that would hide.

That left mainly the soldiers inside the castle, the humans laying in ambush for Lotor and his men. These were easily dispatched, Lotor growing dirty from their spilt blood. He cut his own path to the castle's command center, many of the Drules joining him there. Others remained deep in the castle, searching for any stragglers they had missed on their first sweep of the castle.

Alfor's body was discovered, the human King having died from the many stab wounds given to him. Lotor hadn't been present for the ambush on the King, that had been his father's doing, Zarkon not caring to face Alfor in person. It wasn't an act of cowardice, not exactly, the Drule King simply deciding Alfor was no match for him when it came to a fair fight. He had been after all human, and they could never hope to stand up to a Drule's full strength.

Privately Lotor thought Alfor had deserved a better death, to have died as a warrior rather than a victim. He would have been honored to fight the human King, Lotor having heard tales of Alfor's prowess with a sword. Between that and the man's rumored intellect, Alfor had been quite the ruler, the King managing to keep the Doom Empire at bay for five years.

And not just of his world, but of neighboring planets, Alfor going so far as to start a Galaxy Alliance. That Alliance had been a thorn in Doom's side for the past six months, expanding with more and more worlds, as whole planets flocked to them for protection. With the fall of Arus, the alliance would crumble, effectively crippled without their leader Alfor.

Even now Aflor's body was being prepared, chemicals poured onto him, his body stuffed and mounted. He would be displayed, a constant reminder of what ultimately happened to those that went up against Doom. The body would be broadcast from Alfor's own castle, the signal being sent across the Denubian Galaxy to all worlds, to show them what had happened to their sainted leader.

Lotor was currently in the command center, having given over a slave to one of his most trusted commanders. He felt that slave, Romelle, was a poor reward for the Drule. She may have looked like Allura, but there was a troublesome air about her, one that said she would be more trouble than she was worth. He hoped Sabbath was up to the challenge of handling such a slave, Lotor thinking she would be better suited to serving as a barracks' whore.

His men were angry that they had been denied the use of her body, there was unrest in the air. What few women they had come across in the castle had been old or homely, nothing that stirred the men's lust the way the former princess had. Lotor could understand Romelle's physical appeal, she bore the same kind of sun kissed beauty that Allura had. Only their faces were different, Romelle's nose sharper, face almost too thin for Lotors' liking.

The comparison immediately made Lotor think of Allura, and his hands clenched into fists. He couldn't afford distractions right now, couldn't spend his time thinking about her. He was first and foremost a soldier, and there was things he had to do before he could relax.

"What is our status?" Lotor demanded, pausing besides a soldier who fiddled with the controls of one of the command center's computers.

"We are in possession of nearly ninety-five point three percent of Arus." Came the answer.

"Only ninety-five percent?" Lotor repeated with a scowl. "That's not good enough. All of Arus should be in our possession. King Zarkon won't settle for anything less!"

"It should only be a matter of time before the remaining four point seven percent falls! If you will just be patient..."

"Patient?" Lotor slammed a fist on the control panel. "We've been patient for five long years! I'm tired of this waiting!"

"The pockets of resistance are here and here..." An image of Arus appeared on the monitor, the conquered areas in red. There was only a few smattering of green dots to show the free areas, and as Lotor watched, one of them winked out, replaced by a chunk of flashing red.

"Call our reinforcements to those areas." Lotor ordered. "I want those humans defeated within the hour!"

"Yes, sire!" The Drule hurried to relay his order, dialing up the proper channels on the computer's communication grid. The room filled with the sound of several dozen Drules talking, all shouting out orders or keeping each other briefed on what was happening. There was a lull in the talk as Lotor's orders were relayed, and then a resounding confirmation from the commanders, the men taking seriously the orders given to them.

Lotor continued to pace about the room, pausing occasionally to look over the shoulder of different soldiers, staring at the information written on their computer screens. Most was written in Arusian, and the Drules were hurrying to decipher the writing. They had computer programs that would rewrite the code, and translated the files into the Drule language. Any and all of Arus' secrets would be discovered, Lotor knowing his father was interested in the science that had led the humans into building a marvel like Voltron.

Doom hadn't even sent out any ships to look for the remains of the robot, so focused were they on attacking the remains of the Arusian defense force. Lotor wasn't about to distract his forces from destroying the last of Arus' resistance with a quest to find robot parts that had probably melted, or shattered upon impact on the surface of the planet.

If there was any remains, they would search them out later, along with cataloging the Drules that had died during this mission. He held back a smirk, Lotor knowing the Drules had incurred few losses this time around. It didn't nearly begin to make up for the dead that Arus had caused them to lose during the past five years, but it was a nice feeling to know it was the humans who had been slaughtered and not the Drule.

"Prince Lotor!" A new Drule burst into the room, looking wild eyed and frantic. "It's Commander Cossack!"

"What about commander Cossack?" Lotor demanded, already striding towards this new soldier. The young Drule seemed to hesitate, as though worrying that the messenger was about to be killed for delivering bad news. "Private! Don't make me repeat myself!"

The soldier gulped, and spoke in a halting manner. "The Commander was pulled out of the wreckage. He lives but his injuries are extensive."

Lotor drew in a sharp breath, trying not to let his worry show. "How bad?" He demanded, and again the soldier hesitated. "I asked you a question! How bad?"

"The medical support team says they won't know for sure until after they've operated and gotten the shrapnel out of his body. But...they aren't optimistic."

Lotor drew back from the soldier, the Drule trying to sneak away before Lotor's infamous temper could rise and lash out at him. Lotor barely noticed his movement, too busy worrying over Cossack. The commander was his dear friend, and had been in one of the jets that had been circling around the castle when the princess had opened fire from a turret mounted laser.

To Lotor's horror and immense displeasure, he had watched as the princess scored a direct hit on Cossack's vessel, the jet spiraling out of control. With a plume of smoke marking it's erratic descent, Cossack's jet had crashed into the forest. It hadn't looked good, Lotor fearing for his friend's life. He still worried for him, praying to any God that would listen to make sure his friend survived his surgery with the minimum amount of injuries such a crash could cause.

If not, it would be one more reason to take out his anger on the princess of Arus, Lotor grim faced as he thought of just how much he owed her. He had three years of resentment to take out on her, Lotor never forgetting the insults his father had translated for him. Back then he hadn't thought himself worthy of such words, hadn't yet become the monster she claimed him to be. And yet because of her words, and her blatant refusal to marry him, he had set out to change, to dedicate himself to his kingdom's empire. All in a sick desire to revenge himself on her.

If she thought him a monster, that's what he would be to her. But he was getting distracted again, Lotor shaking his head and turning towards the nearest computer. Seventy-seven percent of the information stored in the memory banks of the castle had been downloaded onto the Drule's computer, and thirty percent was already translated. Another two percent of the Arusian resistance had fallen, soon they would have full control of the planet.

"Contact Doom." Lotor ordered. "I would speak to my father of our victory."

"Yes, sire!"

There was a flurry of movement, fingers typing across the key pad, inputting the communication numbers for Doom. The biggest screen flickered to life, static being chased away by the still screen of a skull and cross bones. Words were written in Drule under the crossbones, advising the caller to wait one moment. The connection was made, and then Zarkon's face appeared on the monitor. He had been waiting for this call, impatient for his son's victory.

"Well?" Zarkon demanded sharply, and Lotor smiled.

"Arus is about to be ours completely." He swept out his arms in a grand gesture, drawing Zarkon's attention to his surroundings. "I speak to you today from inside Alfor's own castle. The king is dead, his body being prepared to be put on display. And with it, the alliance's hopes and dreams will be crushed, it very foundation falling apart without it's leader."

"Excellent." Purred Zarkon, eyes gleaming with approval. "How soon can you set up the broadcast of his defiled body?"

"Within the hour." Promised Lotor, and a soldier called out a reading.

"Arus' resistance is down to point one percent." The last of the green dots went out, and a cheer echoed throughout the room. "Arus has completely fallen!"

"Wonderful." Zarkon said, a broad grin on his face. "Now all that's left is to gather up my new slaves, and put them to work mining that planet dry."

"Already on it." Lotor told him, and Zarkon let out a truly delighted laugh. It sent shivers down most of the Drule's spines, the soldiers not used to hearing their king so happy. "Those that survived the destruction of their cities are being hunted as we speak. There won't be a free human left on this planet before I'm through with it."

"That will send a message to all the others that Doom does not take resistance lightly." Zarkon paused, as though a thought had occurred to him. "Did Alfor's brat survive the attack?"

"Yes." Lotor told him, and allowed a smirk on his face. "She's currently enduring the hospitality aboard my command ship."

"I hope that includes entertaining the soldiers." Grinned Zarkon, and Lotor tried not to hesitate.

"Eventually...maybe..."

"Maybe?" Zarkon growled questioningly, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I have my own plans for her..." Lotor admitted. "I'm not ready to hand her over to anyone just yet..."

"Lotor, son...the princess of Arus is as treacherous as her father. She hates you, she hates the Drule. She is one slave you should not be getting attached too."

Zarkon chided him.

"I won't get attached!" Lotor snapped out in protest. "I merely want to make her suffer for the insults dealt me all those years ago."

"Far be it from me to advise against getting revenge for a wounded pride..." Zarkon sighed. "Just tread carefully. I wouldn't put it past that lying minx to tell you false

hoods, and make you believe something other than what really happened."

"I won't fall so easily just because she has a pretty face." Lotor told him.

"Sometimes, a pretty face is all it takes to bring a man down..."

"Speaking of pretty..." Lotor began, hoping to distract Zarkon from talks of Allura. "There's been a...sitaution with Haggar."

"Haggar?" Zarkon arched one black brow, eyes brimming with curiosity. "What now? Is she crowing about a reward for what she and her coven managed to do?"

"Oh she's vocal all right, but not in the way you think." Lotor grimaced. "It seems there was a backlash of power when they destroyed Voltron. Fortunately for the coven, they merely collapsed, drained of the energy Haggar siphoned off. Haggar however was not so lucky..."

"What happened to her?" Zarkon was now concerned, Haggar was after all his best witch and a member of his council.

"We won't know for certain until the bandages come off but...She appears to have suffered extensive burns all over her body. I'm afraid she won't be quite so pretty to look at..."

"Eh...small loss." Zarkon shrugged his shoulders, gaze cold. "Just so long as she can still function in a magical capacity..."

"That's cold even for you father." Lotor retorted, and his remark earned a predatory smile from Zarkon.

"No, that's practical" corrected the King. "You'd do well to mimic this practicality as well."

"I'll try father." Lotor attempted to promise.

"Now, hurry and finish things up on Arus. All of Doom will be waiting to welcome you and your men back." A chuckle then, Zarkon giving him a rather lusty grin. "I very much want to meet your new slave. She may be a troublesome bitch, but she can still serve a purpose among us Drules."

Lotor fought to keep his expression calm, not liking the thought of his father touching Allura. He knew his father was right to warn him about her, already he felt possessive of the wench, and he hadn't even sampled her charms. How much worse would he be if he let her sink her pretty hooks into him? He shuddered then, thinking it would be better to use her, as often as it took to work himself free of the spell she had cast on him all those years ago.

To Be Continued!

Michelle


	8. Chapter 8

It had taken another three hours before Lotor was able to retire from the night's duties. Every second had been a slow torture, Lotor impatient and snappish, snarling at his men when they proved too slow in their tasks. The downloading of the data from the castle's computers had taken longer than expected, the translation process hitting a snag when they came across encoded files.

Even now, men and women worked to break the code, the Drules excited and confidant that the encoded documents must contain something important. It was an idle curiosity that had Lotor wondering what those documents held, the prince figuring that most if any secrets found, would prove useless now that Arus had fallen. At best, they would hold the key to Voltron's construction, and perhaps detail some secrets of the Galaxy Alliance. But with Alfor dead, his body stuffed and mounted, the Alliance would be falling apart, it's people scrambling to make sense of the chaos that followed the death of their leader.

Lotor felt certain it would be mere child's play to destroy any stray remnants that remained of the alliance, and if any of the worlds associated with it, tried to put up a resistance, they too would end up as crushed and devastated as Arus now was. It was no lie to say Arus was ruined, much of it's cities and towns destroyed. The Drules had not stopped their razing of the towns once the planet had been conquered, no mercy was shown to their care and comfort of the people. Zarkon had wanted a message sent, one that would reach the other worlds and horrify the people there.

The cities and towns were reduced to mere rubble, the people enslaved or being hunted down. Some would board the Drule ships, and be taken to the home world, forced to toil there as slaves. But many would remain on Arus, forced to work the land, dig out it's resources night and day with little respite. Zarkon wanted Arus ruined, wanted every bit of good taken from the land and brought out to use in the Drule Empire.

Lotor almost thought it a pity that such a rich and fertile planet was doomed to be nothing more than useless rock, but knew the Arusians had brought it upon themselves. Or more specifically, their King had brought this fate to them, and all because of his arrogance and hatred of the Drule. If Alfor had only agreed to the union Zarkon had proposed, then none of this would be happening now.

Lotor let out an angry snort, thinking back to that day. Three years had passed since then, and the hurt and anger of that day had not lessened one bit. Lotor still remembered how he had felt when he first saw Allura, the memories colored so that it almost pained him to think of her beauty. He had been awestruck by her, by the thought that this beautiful creature could be his, and any protests he might have had at the thought of his father marrying him off had died at the first glimpse of Allura's face.

Even at fifteen, young and innocent, it had been clear that she would only become more stunning as she aged. He had wanted her then, and badly, had even tried to argue his case with her father. Alfor had been hostile and unimpressed by anything Lotor had had to say, the human's words laced with derision and disgust. As shocked as Lotor had been by Alfor's insults, nothing had prepared him for the venom of the princess' own words. He would have preferred to have lived in ignorance, let himself imagine anything but the truth of what she had said. Maybe then his heart wouldn't have hardened to the point it had, Lotor not being driven to despise the princess and all she stood for.

Allura represented not only Arus, but the rejection he had received, and the deaths of all the Drules that had followed the warring during those three years since that call. She and her father had been the face of his enemy, the figurehead that brought home the reality of the war Doom was engaged in. Before that Lotor hadn't been concerned with the fighting, content to let his father deal with Doom's enemies. He had felt untouched by the war, isolated from what was going on around him, and uncaring of the repercussions the fighting brought to Doom.

The insult Alfor and his daughter had given Lotor had changed all that, motivating the prince into action. He became the perfect little soldier, a student of many things, learning all kinds of skill and knowledge to better prepare himself for the challenges Arus offered his world. Initially he had studied with the intent of finding a way to pay back the insult, Lotor wanting to put a quick end to the war and capture Allura. He had harbored vivid fantasies of what he would do to her, the indignities he would make her suffer. That was before the war began to touch him more personally, Lotor making friends with some of the soldiers he trained with.

They were good men, these soldiers that would become his friends. Men who should have had the best and brightest of careers. They would have moved on to command their own fleets if not for their lives being snuffed out by Arus' defender. Each friend's death had hardened Lotor, the prince understanding that if Allura and Alfor had agreed to the union, to the marriage, then those men would not have died.

It was a personal loss he suffered, far more serious than the insults given to him by the King and princess of Arus. And with those deaths, Lotor took a closer look at what was happening to Doom, noting how the people suffered for all the worlds lost to the Empire. His people were close to starving at times, not enough food being produced to feed all of them, especially the poorer classes.

Many enlisted in the Drule military for the wealth and prestige promised to them, the chance to be able to feed their families. Many died though, and Doom wasn't always able to pay the deceased's family a proper pension. Doom's slums were crowded with those survivors, Drules living in squalor, unable to earn enough money to raise themselves out of such a wretched state.

Each planet won, improved the situation on Doom, though it was never enough. Not when they needed every resource available to them to keep the worlds they had conquered. Arus, and eventually the Galaxy Alliance, was always attacking, always trying to free the worlds from Doom's grasp. They were a nuisance on all levels, and Lotor could only thank the dark Gods he worshipped that Doom had finally found the key to their success.

With Arus fallen, it wouldn't take long for Doom to build itself back up, to regain it's former glory. The tides had at last changed, Doom would prosper once more. It was just a pity it had taken Haggar as long as it had for her coven to come upon the spell that would destroy Arus' robot. He shook his head, making a tsking sound, Lotor staring moodily through the glass window.

He still hadn't returned to his own ship, instead wandering the corridors of the medical bay of one of the smaller ships in his armada. It was here that many of the injured had been brought, those who had suffered life threatening wounds being given the best care the Drule could offer in these limited settings. Even now Cossack and Haggar were among them, the pair being given priority above many of the other injured. Cossack because he was both a commander and the prince's dear friend, and Haggar for she was a member of the council, holding power that was just below that of the King's.

Currently, Lotor was in the observatory, staring down through the glass ceiling at the Drules who worked on his friend. Cossack had been pumped with anesthesia, the Drule unconscious for hours now as the doctors worked to remove the shrapnel from his body. It was quite a sight to see all that open flesh that was being worked on, the doctors having to slice him open to retrieve the pieces that had burrowed in deep in Cossack's body.

It was troubling, Lotor tensing up every time one of the doctors called out an order. Bags of blood were constantly being replaced, Cossack was losing so much of the vital liquid, and was only fortunate in that his blood type was common enough among the Drules. Even worse, there was a troubling amount of shrapnel buried in the flesh along his spine, the doctors carefully digging it out. Lotor knew enough to be worried that the commander might suffer some form of paralysis from the damage done by the shrapnel, and he prayed that his fears would be unfounded.

The areas of Cossack's body that had been worked free of the shrapnel shards were sewn up, tight stitches that would still leave some scarring. Cossack would have quite a story to tell if he lived, able to show off the scars from his brush with death. Lotor just hoped his friend would survive and be around to boast of his injuries, the prince's hands tightening into fists as he thought of what Allura had managed to do to Cossack.

He might have been impressed by the princess' blood thirstiness, if and only if she hadn't endangered Cossack and the other Drules with her actions. He didn't register that Allura had been acting out of grief for her dead father, Lotor just wondered why she had been so foolish, so suicidal as to take up arms against the Drules. She had even shot at him, a fact that might have amused him if not for the deadliness of her weapon.

To Lotor, Allura injuring Cossack was just one more cause for payback, Lotor vowing she would pay for the mangling of the commander's body. He had many ideas of just what she could do in an attempt to earn penance, but he was too tense to smile over any of them. Cossack's situation was too real, too raw and pain filled to allow Lotor a moment of relaxation, the prince full of anxiety and knowing he would not be able to calm down until he knew the commander would be all right.

He didn't give himself over to pacing though, just standing before the edge of the glass ceiling, staring downwards with an impassive expression. The doctors and nurses tending to Cossack were already tense, they didn't need the added pressure of the prince of Doom glaring down at them. Indeed they were being careful not to look up, none wanting to catch his eye and betray what they were feeling about the situation.

That was fine with Lotor, the prince knowing he'd fly into a mindless rage if so much as pity or sympathy flashed in one of their eyes. Nor did he want to see any hints of doubt, Lotor wanting them to be pulling for Cossack to survive this surgery.

A gash in Cossack's shoulder was sewed up, stitches a stark black in the commander's blue skin. Elsewhere on his body, a new incision was being made, blood welling up as they sought to get out a larger piece of shrapnel. He was focused on what they were doing to his friend, refusing to look away as a sort of homage to Cossack. If the commander could endure this surgery, the least Lotor could do was watch without flinching.

So focused was he on Cossack's body below, he almost missed the approach of an orderly. The green clad Drule was nervous, Lotor not even turning to eye the man. But he barked out a word, question sounding as hostile as he felt for this interruption.

"WHAT?"

"Ah, prince Lotor sire. Forgive me for the interruption." Stammered the Drule, the orderly a flurry of nerves as he bowed hastily to the prince. "It is witch Haggar..."

"What about Haggar?" Lotor demanded, thinking of what he knew about the witch's situation. She had suffered a backlash of magic power, burns appearing all over her once lovely skin. It should have been enough to kill the woman, and yet somehow she had survived, stubbornly clinging to life.

"She...she's requesting an audience with you sire." Came the answer.

"She's awake and lucid?" Lotor was aghast then, knowing the amount of damage that had been done to her was too much pain for one person to endure.

"Yes. The doctors' given her something for the pain, but she's refusing to rest until she can talk to you." Explained the orderly. "She says it's of an urgent matter..."

"It must be, if she's refusing to escape to the peace sleep can offer her." Muttered Lotor. The orderly made a questioning sound, and slowly Lotor nodded. "Very well. Take me to her."

"Yes, sire." Another bow, Lotor pausing to stare one last time at the operated on Cossack. With a shudder, he prayed this wouldn't be the last sighed he'd have of his friend, Lotor following the orderly to Haggar's room. The Drule wisely did not try to engage Lotor in conversation, merely leading him down the quickest path to the rooms where the patients recovered.

Haggar had a private room, and the nurse that was replacing her iv bag of pain medication, nodded once before leaving Lotor to his privacy with the witch. The orderly had disappeared once they reached the room, and thus Lotor was left all alone with Haggar. She was swathed in bandages, the white marred a sickly yellow and green color, pus from the burns soaking through the gauze. The bandages would have to be changed and frequently, and Lotor found he was relieved he couldn't see the damage they hid.

Even Haggar's face was covered with bandages, with only a slit for her nose, lips and eyes. Her eyes were currently closed, leaving Lotor to think she had at last given in to the need for sleep. That thought lasted only as long as it took for her eyes to snap open, the yellow looking a feverish shade as she weakly lifted a hand in his direction. That hand shook from the effort it took to raise it, and yet Haggar did not make a whimper of pained sound.

"Prince Lotor..." Even her voice sounded affected by her injuries, the once seductive lilt now raspy and croaking like a toad. "It's good that you've come to see me."

"You need your rest Haggar." Lotor told her, moving closer to her bed. But he made no moved to touch her lifted hand, frightened he would hurt her if he did. "You shouldn't be insisting on anything but more pain medicine."

"All the pain medicine in the world won't dull what has happened to me." She whispered in that awful croaking voice.

"What happened exactly?" Lotor asked. "What went wrong with the spell?"

"It was too powerful...even with the combined might of my coven. I was a fool to try it..."

"My father wouldn't have allowed you to not use it..." Lotor pointed out, and she tried to nod her head. "But that is not why you've called me here, is it?"

"I'll deal with your father on my own terms." Haggar told him. "Instead I have a warning for you."

"A warning?" Lotor lifted a brow at that, hearing Haggar cough.

"It came to me in a vision." She continued after she finishing hacking up a lung. "You must...must stay away from the princess of Arus."

"Stay away from her? Are you mad?" Lotor demanded, but his laugh died before it could be let out. "Haggar no, I have waited too long for this moment."

"Listen to me sire!" She all but snarled now, desperation in her voice. "That pretty face will be your undoing! I've seen it!"

"You've seen what exactly?" Lotor asked, folding his arms over his chest as he stared at her.

"It wasn't a clear enough vision to tell me exactly what your fate would be. Just that there would be immense pain, and ruin brought upon you if you bed the princess of Arus."

"Haggar..."

"NO! You must take me seriously." She was trying to sit up now, and Lotor almost reached out to push her back down to the pillows. "If you touch that girl now, it will be your end! You must stay away from her, avoid her temptations or it will be your end...maybe even the end of the Drule Empire!"

"She's just a girl..." Lotor pointed out with a sneer. "She has no power or wealth to her name now, even her title is meaningless now that her planet has fallen. What can one slave do, no matter how pretty she is?"

"I don't know.." Haggar admitted, still agitated and upright, and staring imploringly at him. "And that troubles me all the more!" He was hardly convinced by her words, and Haggar saw it, reacting with desperation and displeasure. "Sire please! She is capable of so much more than you think! She shot down Cossack's ship, who knows how many others she can hurt. Her hands are stained with blood, with the blood of all the Drules that died upon her refusal to wed you...don't add your own blood to her accomplishments!"

"She's nothing..." Lotor said, trying not to be shaken by the conviction he saw in Haggar's eyes. "And visions can be overturned if we take the right actions..."

"Visions are a warning of what not to do, to avoid a ruinous fate. She could be the death of you...don't let your lust cloud your judgment...take your revenge, but do it in some other fashion!"

He was more than sullen than, lips curling into a scowl. Lotor didn't like what Haggar was telling him, and yet he also knew her visions were the most accurate of all the witches and warlocks the castle employed. If she truly saw there was danger in having sex with Allura, then he'd be a fool to ignore it. Even if he had spent three years dreaming of the moment he'd be free to take what he wanted, and sink himself deep inside the princess of Arus.

"Haggar rest." Lotor said, and she shook her head, frantic. "I...I will consider your words."

"You must do more than consider them!" She snapped back. "You must do everything in your power to not lay with her! Your highness, in my opinion it would be best if you just killed the girl, that would avert the fate the vision foretells completely!" She could see that that idea did not appeal to him, the witch falling back against her pillows, as though drained of her energy. "Sire please..." Haggar begged weakly. "Do not let a moment's lust be your undoing."

"It's not a moment!" Lotor retorted. "This...desire I have for her has been building for years..." Haggar opened her mouth to protest but he was speaking over her. "But I will hold off...for now."

"That for now is the best I'm going to get, isn't it?" Haggar asked, then let out an odd sound that Lotor could almost swear was her attempt at a chuckle. "Fine." She said at his nod. "When I am better, I will attempt to further decipher this vision. There may even be a way to counter it...BUT!" A thin finger was held up, only the clawed tip not wrapped up in bandages. "Do not get your hopes up. It's better to find someone else to bed, then one that could lead to your death. Alfor was always a troublesome thorn in your father's side, his brat may continue the tradition with you."

"I'll handle her, don't you worry about it." Lotor grumbled, and Haggar settled more comfortably against the pillows. But she stared at him, worried gaze following him as he left the room and closed the door. He scowled at the people in the hall, and they scurried away, not wanting to fall victim to his anger. And he was angry, incensed beyond belief that his moment of revenge was being thwarted. He didn't give in to worry, not yet, though he did wonder what Haggar's vision could mean. What sort of ruin and pain could Allura bring to him? He didn't know, and Lotor was sure he didn't want to find out.

To Be Continued...

Michelle

Lotor Sincline, thanks. Glad you're still checking in, waiting for the new content to appear. It's always appreciated! :D


	9. Chapter 9

The words of Haggar continued to echo through his mind, Lotor troubled by them, and the look that had been in the witch's eyes. The witch had believed in what she was saying, a belief so strong it bordered on fear. Such conviction got through to him where words alone might have failed, Lotor shaken and reconsidering at least part of his revenge on Allura.

It certainly helped that he found himself in a less than amorous mood this night, the victory he should have been enjoying marred by what had happened with Cossack. His friend had come out of surgery, the shrapnel and metal removed from his body, but he had yet to awaken. The doctors wouldn't know for sure how bad the damage to his spine had been, not until Cossack himself could tell them what feelings he lacked in his body.

Lotor knew he had to content himself that Cossack was now in stable condition, enjoying what might be the last peaceful moment he had before he woke up to a potential nightmare. Just thinking of Cossack consigned to a wheelchair had Lotor clenching his fists in anger, the prince growling as he stood outside his cabin's door. He knew the object of his torment, the one that was culpable for Cossack's present situation, waited for him on the other side of the door. Lotor wondered if he was ready to face her, the Drule prince knowing the circumstances were far different from any he had imagined these last three years.

People passed him by in the corridor, many pretending not to notice him and the way their prince was scowling at the door. No doubt they had heard about Cossack, and none wanted to approach the prince when he was in so volatile a mood. Pity for the princess that she had no choice in the matter, Lotor unlocking his cabin's door.

He was cautious as he stepped into the room, not knowing what he'd find upon his entrance. But no spitfire attacked him, Lotor raising a puzzled eyebrow as he switched on the overhead lights. The room lit up, and he spied the open door that led to his bedroom. And inside it, laying on the bed, was a figure, Lotor narrowing his eyes at the female form.

It could be no other, Lotor having given strict orders for Allura to be brought to his cabin. He was amazed that the girl was still asleep after all this time, Lotor beginning a slow stalk into the room. The lights flickered on in a soft illumination, nowhere as bright as the outer chamber of his cabin. It cast Allura in a warm glow, Lotor pausing at the foot of the bed to stare down at the princess with a sneer.

Her eyes were closed, dark lashes resting against her sun kissed skin. Her lips were parted slightly, but no snore emanated from her. Nor did she moan or whimper in fear, the girl's dreams untroubled. That made him seethe, Lotor angry that she could gain a moment's respite after the trouble she had caused. Well, no matter, her peace was about to be disrupted, Lotor stalking over to her side, pausing only long enough to grab the pitcher of water that rested on the bed stand.

With a splash and a muffled shriek, she jerked upright, her face and a good portion of her hair soaked. Her blonde hair had been coated with the remains of plaster, and now with the water washing some of it away, it gave her a mottled look. Gold dusted with white, and still she did not lose her beauty.

Allura was shaking her head, stray drops of water flying everywhere, her hands raised to rub at her face and wipe away the remains. He stood watching her, empty pitcher in his hands, the ice cubes having long since melted while she slept.

She finished rubbing at her face, and cautiously lowered her hands. A gasp escaped her, she was staring at her strange surroundings, looking forward rather than to the side. It kept her from noticing Lotor, the princess' brow furrowing as she tried to make sense of where she was.

"No, it's not a dream." Lotor's voice drew a jerky motion from Allura, the princess whirling around on her knees to stare wide eyed at him. Drops of water clung to her eyelashes, and he saw the vivid blue of her eyes, she looked startled for one brief second, and then hate clouded her emotions.

"You!" She snarled, and started towards him. Her hands were curling into fists, she seemed ready to strike him. He watched with an impassive expression, curious as to if she would actually try to hit him. "Monster!"

He didn't so much as flinch from her words, knowing she was capable of far greater insults towards him, and towards his people. But when she threw the first punch, he caught her hand, fingers wrapping around it in a grip that would be bruising. She cried out in pain, but Lotor had barely exerted himself, watching her carefully. With just a but more pressure he could break her fingers, but he wasn't interested in injuring her in that way.

Such was Allura's discomfort, that she didn't try to hit him with her left hand, merely struggling to get her right one free. Lotor made her endure his grip a minute more, and then he was pushing her back, letting her topple over onto the bed when he released her fist. She didn't cry when she fell, just held her hand close to her chest, taking heaving breaths.

But her eyes were aware, Allura glaring up at him with a furious expression. It might have amused him to have her look that way, as though she believed she could hurt him with the narrowing of her eyes.

"You'll learn a great many things in these coming days." He was conversational, his foot bumping the dropped pitcher out of his way. "And the most important will be to never, ever attempt to hit a Drule."

"I'll do more than hit you if I get a chance!" Came her threat, the girl cautiously pushing herself up on elbows.

He wasn't surprised by her threat, might even have admired her bravery, but Haggar's warning rang through his ears. This girl was dangerous, to herself and to others judging by her hostile words and actions. "You really think you stand a chance against a Drule?" He let out a derisive laugh when she nodded, and her cheeks flamed in response. "Even the weakest, and sickest of my kind would prove out of your league."

"I just need a weapon then." She retorted. "I brought down one of your ships...I know I could do it again."

He was suddenly in her face, snarling and hearing her gasp at how fast he had moved. He had closed the distance between them in less time then it took for her to attempt to blink her eyes, Lotor bending over her. His hands slammed into the mattress on either side of her head, his fangs flashing as he remembered how Cossack had looked on the operating table.

"Oh yes, I supposed you're proud of that." He hissed, staring into her defiant eyes. She was either very brave or very stupid, giving the slightest of nods. "Taking down a good man, a loyal soldier, one who has people depending on him!"

"A good man?" She snorted then, tone insolent. "Hardly. He's one of the Drule that invaded my world, and brought countless misery to my people. He deserved to die."

Her words left Lotor fighting not to slap her, the prince allowing a cruel smirk to cross his lips. "Die? Don't be so quick to assume. Cossack still lives." She was still glaring, leaving Lotor unable to gauge her reaction to her failed attempt at killing a Drule. "But barely." Lotor allowed, and pulled away from her. He heard the creak of the bed, mattress making noise as Allura sat up.

"It's more than he deserves." She told him, Lotor whirling to glare at her. "More than any of you deserve!"

"You may have left that man paralyzed for the rest of his life!" Lotor snarled, but refused to step closer to her. "His life and career potentially ruined, forced hardships on him he should never have to suffer..."

"You and your kind killed my father!" Allura countered, hardly moved by Lotor's anger. "You lured him into a trap, and fell on him like the savages you are!"

"You and your father are responsible for a war that seemed never ending!" Lotor snapped back, hearing her gasp. "Countless dead, lives both human and Drule are on your hands!"

"My hands?" She repeated, staring at him like he was insane. "It was your people's lust and greed for other worlds that started this war in the first place. My people were merely trying to stay free, and to help our neighbors remain out of your grasp! If anyone is at fault for all this happening, it's you! You and that wicked king of yours!"

"So you play judge and jury, eh?" Lotor demanded. "You care nothing for the facts, don't want to bother to learn what motivates us to do what we do?"

"There can be no excuse for invading another world, enslaving it's people, and stealing their treasure." Retorted Allura.

In a way she had him there, but Lotor refused to admit it. "My people have needs, and our King took the measure to fulfill them. The strong always devour the weak, that is the way of the universe."

"It's not right..."

"Might makes right." Lotor retorted, earning a frown from Allura. "Even your father knew that to be true, or he wouldn't have made that robot champion for your planet."

"My father's robot was to ensure the peace of Arus, the peace of the galaxy!" Allura was heated in her reply. "Voltron was never intended to be used as anything more than a defender."

He laughed then, a mean snicker of sound. "Tell that to all the people who died on it's sword. Your father's robot initiated it's fair number of attacks, in some spots, the cosmos is still littered with the remains of the ships and bodies it destroyed!"

"Voltron was defending those worlds from hostiles...from you barbarians!" She snapped, seeming to shake with her anger. He almost smirked, wanting to goad her on, Allura continuing to glare.

"And what of the worlds already in the Drule Empire's grasp? Hmm?" He crossed his arms over his chest, giving her an arrogant sneer. "Time and time again, Arus led attacks on our holdings, trying to steal what belong to Doom."

"Those worlds were never yours to begin with!" She shot back. "Your king enslaved them, my father merely wanted to free them from your kind's tyranny."

"You father had no right to interfere with our way of life!" Lotor retorted, voice just a soft roar. "Did he...did any of you consider what would happen to the Drule if we lost those worlds? How my people would suffer without the resources gained from the planets that were our territory?"

"Resources?" She repeated with a blank look, then shook her head. "I don't care what your reasons are, nothing makes up for enslaving another!"

"It's so black and white with you, isn't it?" sneered Lotor. "No gray exists in your world, you don't care about the suffering of my people, the way they would have starved if your father had had his way."

For a second uncertainty flashed in her eyes, but then it was eaten by her anger. "Your people are evil. Monsters! You kill and enslave, torture and terrorize. You can't expect me to feel sympathy for you Drules after all your kind had done!"

"Evil? Monsters? Hardly!" Lotor gave a haughty sniff, unfolding his arms from his chest. "Do you know Allura, that to us Drules, you Arusians are the true evil? The monsters under the bed that would have us die out, weaken us with hunger and illness first, and then exterminate us?" She looked shocked at the thought of being considered evil, but Lotor felt no pity for her perceptions being altered. "Your father was as ruthless as mine is. He wasn't content to stop until all my people died!"

"My father isn't...wasn't like that!" She protested with venom. He couldn't tell if she really believed that, or was just that good a liar.

"I talked to him once..." Lotor said, watching her eyebrows lift with surprise. "It was roughly three years ago...his words made an indelible impression on me. He talked as though we were nothing more than pests, distasteful bugs he couldn't stand. For a great King, he was surprisingly easy to read, his disgust open on his face."

"My father may not have been a perfect man..." Allura began, frowning. "But any dislike he may have had for you Drule was well earned."

"Then the feeling is mutual!" Lotor retorted. "Alfor was many things, a murderer and a thief chief among them!" Her frown deepened, Allura looking ready to object his words. "Oh yes, didn't you know? In addition to killing so many of my people, he also stole from us!"

"Any worlds..."

"I'm not talking about the worlds he kept from us!" Lotor interrupted with a shout. "I'm talking about the money and slaves my father sent to him. They were conditions to be had with those items, conditions he failed to meet."

"Conditions?' She scoffed. "Your father sent those things as a bribe! He meant to buy my father's loyalty, gain his vow that he would not interfere with Drule business. Zarkon was a fool to think my father could be bought by a sum as paltry as that!"

"And yet he didn't hesitate to keep those gifts." Lotor retorted. "And use that wealth to further his own ambitions."

"And what would your King have done if he had regained that money?" Allura demanded. "No doubt all of it would have been put into Doom's military, unleashing more devastation on the galaxy!"

"That doesn't change the fact your father was wrong to keep the money!" Lotor snapped. "If he wouldn't agree to our conditions..."

"As if he would ever agree to anything so distasteful!" She retorted with her own sneer. He seethed at that, lifting a brow, hating that both she and her father had found

it so distasteful an idea, the proposed marriage that would unite their two worlds.

"Distasteful or no, the fact of the matter remains, Alfor would still be alive if he had agreed to my father's request."

"Request? You mean demands!" snorted Allura. "That's just like you Drule...always demanding, always trying to take what doesn't belong to you!"

"Our nature is that of a covetous race, yes." Lotor agreed. "But then you humans aren't so different. You know greed and desire, you want things you can never have. Yes..." He said when she shook her head no. "Even you Allura. I wonder what kind of desires your harbor in your heart."

"That's easy." Allura retorted, raising up off the bed. "I desire your death. Your father slain, your empire in shambles! I won't be able to rest until it happens!"

"Dangerous words." Lotor noted, reflectively touching the pommel of his sword. "Ones that by all right should get you killed."

"Then kill me." Allura sounded bitter then. "I'll only be reborn, again and again, for as long as it takes to get my revenge!"

"I won't be killing you just yet." Lotor told her. "There's no...satisfaction in that."

"Satisfaction?" She echoed, her frown fading as she paled. He wondered what she thought of then, the girl taking a step back. "I'll not give you any satisfaction. Now or in the future!"

"Oh but you will!" He hissed, eyes narrowing. "There's so much I want to do to you. My desires know no bounds." A smirk then, Lotor careful to flash his fangs. "I've spent a great deal of time thinking on what I would do once I had you in my grasp. You could say I was consumed with this obsession of mine."

"NO!" Allura shrieked, her voice so loud it hurt his ears. "I won't let you do it! I won't let you have me. I'll kill myself first."

"You think I would allow you to escape me that easily?" Lotor demanded, seizing hold of her wrists. "No, Allura, suicide won't be an option for you. You're going to live out the carefully planned nightmare I've cultivated, and I'm going to relish each and every moment."

"MONSTER!" She bit out, struggling to get her wrists free of his grasp. "Demon!"

"All that and more!" laughed Lotor then. She shrieked, wordless, as if that would bring help to her then. "He's still alive you know..." That got her confused, Allura staring at him. "That man with the mustache." Lotor explained. "It would be a terrible shame if after all that care and struggle to keep him alive, he ended up dead..."

"You intend to black mail me into compliance?" She demanded, aghast.

"I intend to make sure you don't try to kill yourself before my revenge is complete!"

"Revenge?" A puzzled look, Allura seeming not to understand. But then she was snorting, squaring her shoulders as if it wasn't important. "What must I do to ensure Coran's continued well being?"

"For now? You must simply obey my every command." He let go of her wrists, but was cautious of any sudden movements from her. "You can start by removing that dress."

Her eyes widened then, a hint of stubbornness in them. "No."

"It's not a request you can deny." Lotor retorted. "I want that dress off of you, and now! Or do you value so little this Coran's life?"

"I hate you!" Allura retorted, and began to turn her back to him. He stopped her, not wanting to miss a moment of her show, even as he knew it was a mistake to remain around her while she disrobed.

She didn't look away as she began undoing the laces of her corset, glaring angry and defiant at him. Nor did she delay the undressing, her fingers nimble as they worked open her bodice's fastenings. The dress loosened, and then she was shrugging out of, letting it slump down to the floor.

Staring at Allura clad only in her underwear, drew a sharp breath from Lotor. Her garments were all soft lace, hugging to her generous curves, enhancing her charms. He found himself being affected just staring at her like this, and had to force his hands behind his back to hide the shaking of his arms. He wanted to touch her in the worse way possible, wanted to bury his face between her breasts, heap kisses on her skin and touch betwen her legs.

Imaginings filled his mind's eye, Lotor wondering what it would feel like to be buried inside Allura. To see her anger give way to arousal, to see her head throw back in bliss, her throat offered up to his fangs. Unpleasantly, Haggar's words echoed through his mind, the warning she had given him against bedding this girl. His hands clenched into fists behind his back, Lotor wondering how sex with Allura could possibly bring him pain and ruin.

And yet he remembered her tart tongue, and the hostility of her words, the bold threats she had made. She was determined and full of hate, and that could indeed be dangerous. Better to not risk it, even as he swallowed nervously, and gave her another command. "Your undergarments...take them off."

She started to color in anger, blush blooming in her cheeks. But she didn't dignify his words with a comment, just moving to unclasp her bra. Immediately her breasts popped free if the cups, Lotor's hands itching to take hold of them. To bite and suck on those rosy colored nipples of hers. His breath drew in sharper when she hooked her fingers over the side of her panties, drawing them down so she could step out of them.

His eyes zeroed in on the tuft of golden hair between her legs, and the flesh of her sex. His prick hardened, Lotor wanting nothing more than to take it and explore the slit of her body. But he forced himself to look away, to make his voice sound normal and without feeling. "Stand here." He didn't wait for a response, stalking over to the dresser, and the drab bundle that lay on it's top drawer.

When he returned to her side, he was tormented by the fact she didn't try to hide herself, arms remaining rigid by her sides. She was blushing, and yet seemed to be refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her shy away. And yet her glare turned puzzled when he handed her the bundle, Allura staring at the drab colored, coarse material.

"What's this?" She asked, and Lotor grunted out a reply.

"Clothing."

"Clothing?" Allura echoed, frowning as she look touched the topmost item in the bundle.

"I know it's not what you're used to wearing." Lotor began, and smirked. "I'm sure that delicate skin of yours has worn nothing less than silk and satin. But those days are behind you. A slave knows no such pleasure, save for the handling of their master's clothes."

"Slave?" gasped Allura, and he nodded.

"Don't look so shocked. Surely you could have guessed that is what your fate would be. Oh, but don't worry. You won't be just any slave...you'll be my own personal attendant, there does come some advantages to having a prince for a master."

She threw the clothing on the floor, and stamped her feet in a tantrum. "You are not my master, and I will not be your slave!"

"You don't get a choice in the matter!" Lotor retorted coldly. "And I'd treat your clothing with more care. It has to last you a while."

"I am not a slave!" She repeated, and he shrugged.

"What would you call yourself then? There's little room for any other title for a former princess." He gestured at the clothing. "Go...clean yourself and get dressed. And rest easy in knowing that tonight I won't ask for anything more of you than to accept your new position in life."

"You ask too much!" Allura flared, making no move for the clothing. Lotor shrugged again, and moved to walk out of the bedroom. "Lotor!"

It was the first time she had said his name, and Lotor paused in the room's threshold. "You don't get to speak as though we are equals Allura. That's PRINCE Lotor to you, or master if you prefer. But never Lotor."

With that he left her, blocking out her indignant, sputtering protests by shutting the room's door. But he found himself collapsing against it, leaning into the metal as he took a shaky breath. Dealing with Allura was harder then he thought, their anger driving much of the conversation. He supposed it was good he could hide behind the anger, and the fear and uncertainty he felt over Cossack's situation. It made him want her less, even as his body turned traitor, lusting after her all due to a simple undressing.

He glared down at his erection, feeling unhappy about it's presence. The person he wanted to spend it on was barred to him, Lotor refusing to risk ruin for a bit of momentary fun. He again wondered just what Allura was capable of, and if he wasn't a fool to continue his association with the girl.

"It'll work out." He told himself softly, sighing. "It has too."

And yet Lotor wondered if that was true, the prince angry and disappointed that this day had turned out to be nothing like his fantasies.

To be continued...

Michelle


	10. Chapter 10

The shower's water ran dirty on the floor, discolored by the dried blood and plaster that had once clung to his body. Sabbath made sure to drench himself thoroughly, letting the fierce pelting of the overhead nozzle wash off most of the grime he had accumulated while journeying through the castle of lions. His hair, which he had unbraided, clung to his neck and shoulders, his bangs plastered to his brow. He made no move to brush them from his eyes, keeping them closed as he let the cleansing waters wash over him.

He wished the waters could soothe his thoughts, Sabbath thinking about this past day, and the many occurrences that had happened in so short a time frame. Arus had finally fallen, all pockets of resistance destroyed. What little of the humans remained free, were being hunted, and even if they succeeded in evading the Drules, they wouldn't stay hidden for long. Not when hunger and desperation drew them out of the caves and rubble of the destroyed cities.

Even now the humans were being processed, branded and prepared for their introduction into lives as slaves of the Doom Empire. They'd have little time to rest, come the morning the Drules would be putting them to work. They would not be rebuilding the destroyed cities, though camps would be set up for the Drules who would remain behind on this planet to supervise the Arusian slaves.

Of course the prince and much of his armada would not be leaving right away, Lotor staying behind to supervise the first days' work. It wasn't just the mining of resources that had to be overseen, the Drules were eager to discover just what had happened to the robot Voltron. To see if any of the pieces had survived the coven's spell, and if the parts were salvageable.

Sabbath as a commander and general in the Drule military, would not have much to do in these coming days. Not with much of the fighting over with, many of the soldiers able to earn a momentary reprieve before being sent off to fight on other worlds. But before that would come the looting, the men and women of Doom sifting through the rubble to try and find anything of value to claim for themselves. It was an additional bonus to the pay they earned from the empire, the riches the Arusians had enjoyed now up for grabs.

As were many of the people, soldiers claiming humans for their own. Though in truth many of the humans taken by the soldiers were women, the men hungering to slate their lusts on any female flesh they could find. Sabbath had already born witness to that lust, the desires of his soldiers such that they had been willing to go against his orders at the first sight of a beautiful woman. The memory of that assault on the blonde hair maiden made Sabbath bare his fangs, his low incensed growl barely heard over the roar of the shower head.

His rage was only soothed by the fact that he had stopped their attack, prevented it from becoming a full out rape. He still wasn't sure what exactly had happened, the moments leading up to his discovery of Romelle and her tormentors. Something had come over him, Sabbath finding the act being committed even more abhorrent than he usually did, the Drule springing into action. He hadn't paused to think, his rage having nothing to do with the fact the soldiers were disobeying his orders. He had just reacted, and all because of the glimpse into fearful but angry blue eyes.

Eyes that seemed to affect him any time he looked into them, Sabbath flying into a murderous rage to protect Romelle. He had even killed for that rage, beheading one of his own men for their daring against the girl. That rage worried him, Sabbath not understanding just why Romelle compelled him to react in such an extreme manner. And with that lack of understanding had come relief, brief though it was. Sabbath had assumed on closer inspection, that Romelle had been the princess of Arus. And thus once delivered to his prince, the girl would no longer be his problem.

How wrong he had been! Sabbath let out a humorless snort, hands clenching into fists. If anything, his arrival before Lotor had sealed Sabbath and the girl's fate, the prince revealing that the woman Sabbath had rescued was not Princess Allura. As such, he had no use for her, neither personal or political, Lotor quick to toss Romelle to the wolves. Sabbath had instantly objected to that fate, and though it had earned him the anger of many of the soldiers present, Lotor had been amused. Enough to grant him the exclusive use of Romelle, the girl becoming his private slave.

It was not something Sabbath had wanted. Nor did he know quite what to do with the girl now that he had her. Sabbath knew what the other soldiers would assume about them, the Drules expecting Sabbath to spend much of the following days enjoying the girl's body. They would laugh and be amazed to know that was the last thing Sabbath intended to do, even if he felt desire every time he looked in Romelle's direction.

If anything, that unasked for desire made him all the more determined to abstain, Sabbath a rarity when it came to Drule men. He abhorred rape, could not, would not condone taking a woman by force. His way of thinking made him a defect among the Drule, and Sabbath was always quick to hide his disdain for those who so enjoyed such a cruel act.

As a child who was the product born of a rape, Sabbath had grown up advised by his damaged mother. She had been quick to instill in him respect for a woman, and her body, to make him understand and acknowledge a woman's refusal. Women, no matter the species, were creatures to be cherished, to admire and love, and above all protect.

Even if that protective instinct had gained him a slave that he had no idea what to do with! He groaned, and turned off the shower, thoroughly rinsed of dirt and soap. His hair hung down in waves, the strands having spent a life time of conditioning by his braids. Even with the water weighing them down, they would not straighten out completely, a bit of a curl to them.

He shook his head, Sabbath sending drops of water flying everywhere as he reached for a towel. He began rubbing vigorously at his wet hair, though in truth Sabbath wanted to delay leaving the bathroom for as long as possible. He knew what was waiting for him outside in his private cabin, Romelle having been left unattended inside his bedroom.

He had locked the doors from the inside, knowing that to open them required the fingerprints of one who had been authorized access to the cabin. Romelle had no way of leaving, even if she should desire to do that. And if she somehow managed to bypass the door's security, only trouble awaited her on the rest of the ship. Her beauty would be her undoing, the former princess falling prey to the first Drule she came across.

That would prove problematic in more ways than one, Sabbath realizing he would have to keep Romelle close to him at all times. Especially if she was to leave the cabin for any reason. Not that he expected her to, not with her beauty being such a problem. It limited him in the ways he could command her, Sabbath knowing that even if he were able to trust her, he couldn't send her out on errands without fear of the molestation she would endure.

Why a simple trip to the ship's commissary could take hours, Romelle being nabbed by soldiers as she tried to fetch Sabbath's meals. The same could happen with his laundry, and he had horrible visions of sending her to deliver a message to one of the other Generals, and having her come back disheveled from their attention. The thoughts made him growl with rage, Sabbath violently throwing the towel on the floor. He fetched a dry one, and wrapped it around his body, securing it in place over his hips.

Trying to curb his anger, Sabbath stalked towards the room's exit, the door swishing open at his approach. He was almost not prepared for the attack that came, his troublesome slave trying to swing a pitcher at his head. She came up short, Romelle lacking the height needed to reach Sabbath's head. Nor did she get to smash the pitcher anywhere on him, Sabbath grabbing her by the arms, forcing her to struggle against him.

With a loud crash of sound, the pitcher hit the floor, water spilling everywhere. Except for an angry whimper, Romelle was silent, shaking and struggling violently against him. Sabbath let out an annoyed growl, put off by the fight in the little hellion. "Damn it all!" He snapped out, shaking her back as he growled at her. "Is this how you repay me for my kindness?"

"Kindness?" Romelle managed to scoff, Sabbath catching sight of her angry blue eyes a moment before she slipped on the water. His hold on her kept her from hitting the floor, Sabbath lifting her up bodily to carry her over to the bed. She panicked further, screaming and kicking out with her legs, going so far as to pull on his hair. He almost dropped her then and there in response, but managed to set her down on the edge of the bed.

Romelle tried to back away from him, but he held on to her wrists, keeping her right before him. "Yes, kindness." Sabbath insisted, fighting not to stare at her. She was dressed in one of his shirts, Sabbath having found her torn dress inadequate when it came to covering her. The ends of the long sleeves draped down past her fingertips, forcing Romelle to have rolled them back. The shirt itself was long on her, looking like a baggy dress that's hem went down to her knees. And still she tempted him, the flashes of her shapely legs drawing his eyes to them as she had kicked and struggled against him.

Added to his interest was the fact she wore nothing under the shirt, Sabbath not having made the time to request clothing be sent up to the cabin. He wasn't even sure what to dress her in, Sabbath thinking she did not deserve the coarse rags of a normal house slave. But to dress her in the flimsy scraps of silk that doubled as a pleasure slave's outfit was risking too much temptation. Just imagining her in scraps of blue had his eyes darkening, his breathing quickening. It was a reaction not lost on Romelle, she began trying to pull her hands free of his grip.

"Is it kindness to invade my home world?" Romelle was asking him, even as she fought him. "To destroy it, to enslave my people...to steal me away from my home, to kill my uncle?"

"Doom and Arus has been at war for years now." Sabbath answered. "Eventually there had to be a loser..."

"It doesn't justify what you have done!" Romelle retorted. "What you continue to do!"

"Let us make some things clear here and now. I do not do anything save what my King and Empire command of me. I am merely a soldier, a man trying to earn a living, and glory for my people."

"At the expense of so many others!" She protested.

"It is the same for your world." Sabbath pointed out. "Your men and women doing as your King commanded. It would be a betrayal to act against him."

"But..."

"We all try to make a life for ourselves, to earn prestige and wealth. Some of just prove more successful than others..." He sighed then, seeing her blink back what had to be tears. "It is unfortunate but the way of war...one side has to lose..."

"But why...why Arus?" He wondered if she expected him to answer that, Romelle lowering her gaze to her lap. "It's not just losing..." She whispered. "It's killing and devastation, our homes looted and destroyed...whole families dead. I..." Her voice broke, but she continued, bravely refusing to give in to her tears. "What about MY family. My father and brothers...do they even live?"

He couldn't answer with any certainty, but Sabbath had a feeling that any remains of male royalty on Arus had probably been stamped out. The men would be to determined to reclaim the planet, the people too quick to rally behind them. The Drules would want to demoralize the Arusians even further, enslaving those they could, and killing the rest.

His silence seemed enough of an answer for Romelle, she suddenly lifted her gaze, eyes angry even as tears streaked down her cheeks. He found himself leaning into her then stopped, Sabbath knowing Romelle was not his woman to comfort. She was his slave, and he shouldn't blur the lines between them even more than they already were. But damn if the temptation to take her in his arms was not strong, Sabbath wanting to lick away her tears and tell her that somehow everything would be all right.

He abruptly let go of her wrists, as if distance would help him control that impulse. Romelle brought her hands up to her face, attempting to muffle the heart broken weeping she was doing. Sabbath stepped back from the bed, uncomfortable with her sobbing, and the instincts he warred with. The instincts that told him to comfort this woman.

Instead he forced himself to turn, to walk across the room to a table where some food was laid out. The water pitcher had been smashed, but there was still a decanter of wine. Sabbath poured some now, and after a moment's pause, brought the glass to Romelle. "Here." He said gruffly, and she blinked up at him. "Drink this. It will..." He paused, knowing no amount of wine could make her forget her loss, though it could numb her pain at least for the night.

"I don't want it." Romelle said stubbornly, turning up her nose at the glass. Sabbath stared at her a moment longer before shrugging his shoulders, and downing the wine himself. It was sweet, almost sickly so, and burned going down his throat. Romelle continued to avoid looking at him, but she wasn't still, fidgeting in place on the bed. "So now what?"

It was bold of her to ask, Sabbath reacting in surprised amusement. "Now?"

"Yes. What will you do...with me?" She asked. "I heard what that prince of yours said..."

"He's your prince now too..." Sabbath corrected her, but she didn't pause.

"He said he gave me to you. What does that mean exactly?"

"Well, Romelle..." He didn't hesitate, nor did he take any satisfaction from answering her question. "It means your my slave." Her eyes widened, looking like two round pools of blue. An instant later she was standing, looking as though she wanted to strike him.

"I am not your slave!" Romelle snapped, shaking her head as if her denial could change her status. "Not now, not ever!"

"I am not exactly...thrilled with this arrangement either." Sabbath admitted. "But the fact of the matter is neither of us have much choice in the matter. You can attend to me as my personal slave...or..." He trailed off, not liking to have to remind her of the other fate that had almost been hers.

"Or?" She repeated, anxious in the moment.

"I know you heard him. How the prince wanted to give you to his soldiers. The men there were most eager for you..." He looked away from the horrified look in Romelle's eyes, fighting with his own anger over the lusts that had been displayed in her presence.

"So...my choice is...enslaved to you...or...or..." She couldn't voice it, anymore than he could, a hand rising to Romelle's mouth. "I don't want this!" She suddenly cried out. "I don't want to have to make such a horrible choice!"

He nearly twitched with annoyance there, Sabbath glancing at her. "You find me that abhorrent?"

"You're a Drule!" She exclaimed, as if that was answer enough. Perhaps to her it was. He frowned at her, Sabbath wondering if this racism was a personality quirk of Romelle's, or if all the Arusians felt this way. "You take what you want, and destroy all else...you've done it to Arus, and you'll keep on doing it with no one left to stop you!"

"I suppose we will." Sabbath agreed. "So long as our King commands it, we will continue our conquest."

"Why?" She shook her head then, hands clenched into fists. "No when! When will it be enough for you greedy Drules?"

"Again, that is up to our King."

"He is a ravenous monster!" Romelle pronounced. "All of you are!"

"That may very well be the case, but you will withhold from speaking of him as such!" reprimanded Sabbath sharply. He knew it was folly to allow Romelle to have free reign to call the King and crown prince insulting names. If another Drule overheard her, they would be quick to punish her, and Sabbath couldn't bear the thought of the whippings and beatings that would follow her incendiary words.

"I will not!" Romelle protested. "I will do and say as I please!

"Then you fail to understand the position you are in!" snapped Sabbath, partly in exasperation. "You are princess no more. Your family is most likely dead except for your cousin, Allura. You are nothing more than a slave to the Drule, and many will not tolerate an insulting tongue, especially towards their King! I'm sure you've heard the stories..." He added, watching her face grow pale. "Of the kind of punishments the Drules deal out to disobedient slaves.."

"Yes, I know..." She whispered, and he nodded.

"Then you should know not to push me or any other Drule on this matter." Sabbath said, crossing his arms over his chest. He badly wanted to reassure her that he would never mistreat her in the privacy of their home, but knew it would be a sign of weakness. One she would capitalize on, and would cost her, Romelle wrongly assuming all Drules were as big a push over towards their slaves as Sabbath might be towards her.

"What's...what's going to happen to me?" Romelle finally whispered, and Sabbath paused.

"Well...for now you will remain here with me on board this ship." He explained. "We're not estimated to remain on Arus for more than a week."

"And after?"

"And after you will come with me to my home on Doom." She gasped, and seemed to sway, Sabbath quickly moving to catch her. He reacted without thinking, arms going around her to prevent Romelle from hitting the floor. She didn't fight the support of his arms, just sagging even more against him.

"Doom..." Romelle moaned, voice pitiful in the moment. "No one ever returns from Doom."

He didn't know what to say to that, Sabbath taking advantage of her near collapse to hold her closer than was right. She didn't protest this, Romelle staring not at him but the floor. She was shivering, no doubt in fear, and he knew he could not comfort her from the truth of the matter. They would leave be leaving Arus, Romelle would come with him to Doom. He could only hope she'd be able to resign herself to the thought of living on that planet, far away from everything she had ever known and loved.

To Be Continued...

Michelle

Amanda, thanks! Thanks for checking this one out! Yes, a tool...or even a asshole, especially in this fic. It'll get worse before it'll get better in terms of Lotor's behavior. X_X Thanks again!


	11. Chapter 11

She awoke shivering, Allura finding herself on the floor, with only the plush carpeting to cushion her body. For an all too brief instant she was disoriented, Allura wondering if she had fallen out of her bed. As she turned to glance at that piece of furniture, she realized the bed was not in it's usual place. If she had been home, the bed would have been pressed into the left corner of the room, but here it was to the right of her. And large! Far larger than any bed she had ever slept in, Allura frowning as it all came back to her.

And with those painful memories, a moan erupted from her, Allura bringing a fist to her mouth. She bit down on her knuckles, trying to stifle her screams, Allura remembering the events of the day before. Of her father laying on the gurney, bleeding profusely. Of his whispered words, Alfor frantic for her to leave the castle, and escape Arus. But she had been beyond reason, especially once her father had breathed his last breath.

The pain of her father's death was not lessened, Allura feeling it as vividly as though the moment was occurring now. She could remember her sorrow, and her panic, the rage and denial that bubbled through her. She had done things, things she knew were foolish now, Allura running off with revenge on her mind rather than obey her father's final command. What good did shooting down one Drule do her, when she herself was now enslaved, mere property of the very people she hated?

She knew now she should have listened to her father, even as her heart cried out for revenge, Allura sitting up slowly. The coarse wool of the drab clothing she had been given rubbed across her skin, irritating it with it's scratchiness. There wasn't much to the outfit, more tunic than dress, but minus any leggings. It fell down just past her thighs, being indecently short. The sleeves were also short, and except for a pair of cotton panties, she wore nothing underneath the tunic.

Already she missed her fine gowns, Allura having never worn anything so immodest in her life. Nor so uncomfortable a fabric, the princess knowing what these clothes signified. She was a slave now, at least in appearance, Allura refusing to think less of herself to satisfy some Drule. Especially the one who called himself her master, Allura inching up off the floor to peer at the monster that lay in the center of the comfortable bed.

Hatred clouded her judgment, Allura unable to look beyond his Drule features to see anything else. She certainly didn't notice his handsome looks, or the fact that the Drule was somehow softened within him, all due to the mixed blood he enjoyed. All Allura could see was the enemy, someone who represented the chance for her revenge to be complete. Her eyes narrowed as she climbed onto the bed, taking care not to jostle his figure as she crawled towards him.

Her breath began to come out faster in nervous excitement, Allura resting on her knees beside the sleeping prince. She studied him for one long moment, last night's indignities playing back in her mind. Of how he had forced her to strip for him, the Drule's eyes staring at her with an open hunger that disturbed her. Somehow he had held back, keeping from taking that final step towards the last of her innocence. The fact that he had abstained from raping her wouldn't spare him now, Allura reaching for his neck.

She realized too late her mistake, the Drule purposefully feigning sleep so as to trick her into acting. Allura didn't know when Lotor had awakened, if he had been aware of her from the first moment she put her knee on the bed, or if it had been sooner. But the instant her hands tried to close around his thick neck, his eyes snapped open, the cold amusement in them making her gasp.

Valiantly, she still attempted to choke him, feeling no remorse of guilt for her actions. Allura actually screamed in impotent rage when his hands closed around her wrists, Lotor preventing her murderous act. She struggled against him, blinking back angry tears, hissing and snarling, trying to pull her hands free. She badly wanted to injure him, to do something that would leave a lasting mark on his skin.

She failed in that desire, Lotor suddenly yanking her downwards, both their bodies flipping so that Allura ended up on her back. The Drule was on top of her, a malevolent grin on his lips as he pinned her hands over her head. She struggled even more, actions furious as she tried to get her hands and body free. Lotor merely laughed at her, and adjusted his grip, left hand easily holding onto both of her wrists.

"Let go of me!" Allura cried out an instant before his right hand was on her throat. There was no pressure to his hold, but the implied threat was enough, Allura gasping. She knew it wouldn't take much for him to crush her wind pipe, a Drule's strength notoriously strong.

"Do you know it is a punishable offense for a slave to lay hands on her master?" Lotor asked, his tone conversational. "Especially when their intent is to do harm, or even kill?" She said nothing to that, but her eyes goaded him to do his worst. Lotor merely tsked in reply, giving a slight head shake that had his unbound hair falling forward like a white curtain.

"I was curious though..." He continued. "What could my little spit fire be up to, I wondered. I'm sure by now you realize you had no hopes of sneaking up on me. I am a light sleeper, especially around murderous little slaves such as you."

"Just be done with it!" Allura grit out, carefully not to move lest he respond by squeezing down on her throat.

"It?" he echoed, none of the amusement dying down in his eyes at her response.

"Kill me now, or I'll make you regret keeping me alive!" She was incensed by the sharp bark of laughter that erupted out of him, Lotor actually relaxing his hold on her neck. She wasn't sure if she was disappointed or not, Allura feeling all she had left to live for was revenge against the Drule. And as hungry as she was to bring damnation and ruin upon these miscreants, Allura wasn't sure she had it in her to succeed in such an endeavor.

"I'm sure you'll try." Lotor agreed, still holding her hands captive. "But I wonder how successful you'll be." A shrug then, as though her attempts were inconsequential. "No matter." He said. "I'm sure it will prove amusing, whatever you try to do."

"You're not afraid?" Allura demanded, eyes narrowed at him.

"Of a mere slip of a girl?" Lotor shook his head no. "Dear girl, stronger men and women than you have tried and failed. You'll be no different..."

"That's where you're wrong!" She was bold in her protest, Allura trying to smirk at him. "Because I am motivated in a way they are not. You see, I have nothing left to live for except to see you and your kind dead."

"I'm sure I can find a few incentives for you. There is that man, what was his name...?" The prince wondered out loud, and she gasped.

"Coran!"

"Ah yes, Coran. And if not him, then your cousin. Romelle, was it?" A smirk from him, and Allura all but snarled in reply.

"What have you done to my cousin?"

"Nothing yet." Lotor answered. "Though I can't ensue her well being for very long. She is in the care of one of my most trusted Generals, a commander named Sabbath. Her situation is very similar to yours, the girl nothing more than a slave. Though that can change, I can ensure undue torments are applied to her should you prove too troublesome."

"Why punish her when it's me who does the crime?" Allura demanded.

"I find when one is as longing for death as you claim to be, they care little about what is done to them. It's more effective to threaten their family and loved ones."

"Monster!" She spat out, and he was suddenly pressing into her, hissing in her face.

"That's right Allura. I am the monster you see me as. I will kill, torture and destroy as I see fit. Do not ever forget that!" His eyes were flashing, enraged as they reflected her face, angry expression not quite hiding her fright. "And I'm sure there are more people I can find to ensure you behave!"

"Behave how?" Allura demanded, trying to twist away from his nearness. He merely grabbed her chin, and forced her to remain staring up at him, his lips dangerously close to hers. "What do you expect of me?"

A slight shifting of his body, Lotor lifting himself up so he could be obvious in his glance down the length of her body. Her cheeks immediately began to burn in response to his blatant interest, Allura aware that all she wore was the too short tunic and a flimsy pair of panties.

Her shame grew worse when he released her chin, Lotor hovering his hand over her chest a moment. When it lowered, his palm pressed between her breasts, the gesture hardly innocent as he caressed downwards. He passed over her abdomen, down the skirt like bottom of the tunic, and onto her legs. He wasn't looking at her face any more, touching the coarse wool, nudging his fingers under it.

Her legs were closed, but that didn't stop Lotor from touching the cotton fabric of her panties. She inhaled sharply, the sound echoing her displeasure as he pressed two fingers against her center. Time seemed to freeze as he touched her there, and then just as abruptly, he was jerking off her, his face angry. Allura didn't understand the reason for his anger, nor why he had stopped his molestation of her before it had time to begin.

"I have many uses for you." He announced. "Both in and out of bed, though for now you will simply have to get used to sleeping on the floor." Allura just started at him, confused and propped up on her elbows. "Oh do try not to look so disappointed." Lotor angrily teased her. "I have many women fighting over the chance to warm my bed. What would I want with an untrained slave?"

She didn't understand him, and Allura let that lack of understanding show on her face. Lotor maintained that angry look, even as he walked away from the bed. "As much as I abhor having to housebreak a pet, somehow with you, I think it will be fun."

"I am not here for your amusement!"

"Ah but you are Allura. You're here for whatever whim takes my fancy." He turned his back to her, opening doors that revealed a closet. It was there that he selected clothing for himself, the Drule prince stripping out of the loosely belted pants her had worn while sleeping. She caught a sight of his rear, and then Allura was closing her eyes, not wanting to see anymore.

"You better get used to looking at me Allura." Came Lotor's voice, cold and unfeeling. "You'll be working in close proximity to my body in the future. Helping me dress and bathe. It would serve you well to lose any remaining shyness, a slave can't afford embarrassment or modesty."

"I am not a slave!" Allura growled, but she didn't open her eyes.

"That's what all slaves say at first." Lotor commented. "Some just take longer to be broken than others." He spoke as though her breaking was a certainty, Allura shaking with barely suppressed anger. She was certain she would not break, that she would never accept her slave status. She'd die first, one way or another, either by her hand or another's, maybe even Lotor's.

When she finally opened her eyes, he was seated across the bed from her, knee length boots next to him on the floor. "Come here Allura, and help me with my boots." She quickly shook her head no, and he narrowed his eyes at her, voice a gruff growl. "I gave you an order!"

"I am not your slave to do as you command."

"I understand the reality of the situation isn't quite sinking in. But my patience is not limitless. For each refusal to do as I command, you will be denied something. Shall I start with breakfast? I'm sure you're very hungry...and can be made to be even more so." She just lifted her chin stubbornly, Lotor feigning a disappointed sigh. "So you've made up your mind have you?" A nod from her, but that was all the response he got, Lotor rising. "Very well Allura."

He didn't put on the boots, walking instead to the bedroom's door. He opened it, and she could smell the delicious aromas of the meal laid out on a table. Her stomach actually made a noise, alerting her to how hungry she was. She turned embarrassed, feeling her body a traitor for betraying her like that. But Allura made no move to get off the bed, simply sitting there as Lotor moved in the outer chamber.

Another slave was present, and it was this woman who fetched Lotor''s boots, and saw to putting them on Lotor's feet. She knelt before him as she did this, the brown haired slave diligently doing up each and every lace in intricate knots. Lotor ignored her, leaning back and eating his meal, only to throw a few scraps of food her way when she was done with his boots. To Allura's horror, the woman eagerly pounced on the food on the floor, eating like she was half starved.

Lotor barely blinked an eye at this, going so far as to absentmindedly pet the woman's hair, literally treating her like she was a beloved pet. A pet she mimicked by cooing, and rubbing up against his hand. Allura's eyes were huge, and she made a vow then and there that, that would never be her.

Eventually Lotor finished with his meal, other slaves coming in to help the brown haired female. They began packing away the remains of the breakfast, the slaves trying to feign disinterest in the half eaten food on the plates. Allura could tell by the look in their eyes that they were hungry, but none tried to sneak a piece of food when Lotor's back was turned.

Instead they loaded it up with the other trash, and wheeled the cart out of the room. The brown haired slave remained, following Lotor into the bedroom. No introductions were given, the female slave meek and avoiding looking at Allura.

"Get the bed made, and do my laundry." Ordered Lotor, gesturing at the clothes discarded on the floor. The woman nodded, moving towards Allura's old gown, gathering it and the other clothing into her arms. "Come Allura. We have much to do today."

"To do?" Allura asked warily, slowly inching off the bed.

"Yes." Lotor had produced a belt, complete with sheathed sword in it's leather scabbard. "There are people I must meet with, affairs I must over see. And of course, we need to fit you with your new collar."

"Collar?" She was alarmed, eyes sliding to the brown haired slave who was walking towards the laundry hamper. Allura noted the gray metal collar the woman wore, and realized the others had worn similar. "You are not putting a collar on me!" Her protest did not give the woman pause, it seemed it was an argument she had heard from countless other slaves. In fact, Allura had the dismaying thought that the woman might have said similar on her first day as a slave.

"Yes, I am." insisted Lotor, turning to look at her now. "I'll fit you with a pretty one, one that will mark you as my personal property."

"NO!"

"You can scream all you like, it's going to happen." Lotor was calm in the face of her anger. He gestured for her to once again approach him, and Allura quickly shook her head no. An impatient look crossed his face, the Drule prince stalking towards her. She began to back up, frightened of what he would do, but all he did was roughly grab hold of her arm. Allura was then dragged out of the bedroom, and through the outer chamber, towards the still open door that led out into a brightly lit hallway.

He didn't relax his grip once they were outside the cabin, Lotor forcing her to walk quickly as he moved through the halls. She stumbled and nearly fell a few times, Allura having no shoes to find purchase on the slippery floors. Lotor barely paused to allow her to right herself, Allura scrambling to keep up lest she be dragged on her knees after him. It left her distracted, the girl not taking the chance to study their surroundings and learn the layout of the Drule ship. But she was aware of how many soldiers they were passing, men and women, and predominately Drule though a few human looking slaves moved about.

She nearly crashed into Lotor's back when he abruptly stopped, but before she could do more than make an annoyed noise he was talking. Not to her though, but to another man, a Drule that wasn't dressed in the gray and black uniform of the soldiers. This man was dressed in a bright green, the outfit looking very much like the kind of scrubs she would have seen at an Arusian hospital.

The two men did not choose to speak in a language Allura could understand, their words sounding like guttural growls as they spoke Drule. They spoke at a rapid pace, so fast that even if Allura could speak the language, she would probably be lost. As they spoke, Lotor relaxed his hold on her arm, giving her only the briefest of angry looks before releasing her completely.

Allura immediately stepped back, rubbing the feeling back into her arm as she watched Lotor converse with the Drule. Minutes passed, and it was then that she realized the hall was all but empty save for her and the two Drules. She glanced back at Lotor, noting his back was turned, gazing at some kind of chart the green clad Drule was holding. Both men were distracted, and it was without a second's hesitation, that Allura began to sneak off.

When no one called out to her angrily, she grew bolder, inching her way around a corridor. There wasn't any Drules here either, and her elation grew, Allura walking quicker. She had no destination in mind, except to get away, Allura wondering if she could not find a way to somehow sabotage the ship. She passed by a few slaves that were similarly unattended, and noted they walked quickly, though with their heads down. She mimicked this gesture, assuming any Drule she came across would assume she was a slave with a purpose. She'd be only half right, hands suddenly grabbing her, one clamping over her mouth to stifle her scream.

When she was spun around, she shrieked into the hand, staring at the three Drules who surrounded her. Their eyes were lustful, the men leering, hands wandering as they explored her body. Others passed by, and though a few did a passing glance her way, no one tried to stop the molestation that was going on. Allura shrieked again, the sound muffled, one of the Drules pressing her against his front.

Her arms were trapped behind her back, the Drule that held her bending down to sniff at her neck. Another pressed a claw against the front of her throat, doing a light caress as he said something. She had no idea what he was saying, but he looked delighted at her lack of collar, the other two also making similar sounds of appreciation. She didn't understand why they were so pleased, but was aware of the one reaching for her legs, hauling them up and apart.

The Drules continued to speak, laughter filling the hall even as another soldier walked by. No one seemed to care that she was being molested out in the open, in fact some of the looks she got were envious, as if those Drules wished they had gotten to her first! Allura could only continue to shriek and struggle against the holds on her arms and legs, realizing her folly too late. She should have stayed with Lotor, the princess realizing he was a much safer alternative to these three that had captured her.

Don't panic just yet!

To Be Continued of course...

Michelle


	12. Chapter 12

There was always a lot to do when a new planet fell to Doom's invasion. The people needed to be subjected, their spirits broken, their hopes dashed. There was many ways to accomplish such a thing, though one of the most demoralizing things Lotor had learned to do, was to show off the fate of their rulers. Many of the conquered always broke when they saw the bruised and battered bodies, the enslaved women and children, and the corpses of the men. And if that didn't work, there was always turning such tactics onto them, Lotor allowing the Drule soldiers to have free reign in torturing the people captured.

It would be no different here on Arus, although the presentation of the dead King's body would have far reaching effects. The other planets, especially those that were part of Alfor's galaxy alliance, needed to see their leader was dead. It would send an effective message, and with Voltron in pieces, the rest of the Denubian Galaxy would lose their hope.

The squashing of that hope was a good thing, the Doom Empire had for too long been at a disadvantage thanks to Alfor's machinations. It was time for Doom to recover ground, to recoup it's losses. Arus would become an example, it's land worked until there was nothing left for it to give, and then the planet discarded. The people of Arus would not be so lucky, the humans spending the rest of their lives as slaves. They would live and die under the Drule thumb, ceasing to be anything but a number on their collars.

There was time before he had to see to the day's business, many of those under his command enjoying the new supply of women they had gained when Arus had fallen. Lotor couldn't begrudge them their pleasure, though he did envy them. He himself had expected to be sampling Allura's wares, when Haggar and her damn visions had warned him off taking the girl. Such was his anger and disappointment, he hadn't been able to muster up the enthusiasm to claim another female, Lotor spending much of the night lost in thought.

He would be glad when Haggar was well enough to decipher her vision, Lotor wanting to find a way to counteract the ruin she foresaw for him. But until then, there was other ways to torment Allura, to break her into becoming an obedient slave. She had a lot of fight in her, but then he wasn't surprised. Not after she had taken to attacking Drule ships, the girl proving she was not a meek little flower.

He well remembered his first sight of her on the castle's tower, the girl seated behind the laser gun. She had been enraged, her eyes full of hate and grief, Allura screaming things out at the ships above her. She had openly dared them to fire down on her, the girl seeming reckless and uncaring if she got killed. He knew now from the words she had spoken to him, that Allura currently did not care if she lived or died, living only for revenge.

He wouldn't grant her either of her wishes, neither a death by his hands, or to allow her to succeed in avenging her father and her people. But he knew it would be amusing to watch her try, much like it had been when she had climb into bed with him, her intentions murderous. That amusement wouldn't make him careless though, he well knew what she was capable of.

Any grudging admiration he had had for her, that night on the castle tower, had fled when Cossack's ship had gone down. Shock at her success nearly overrode the pleasure of the moment when he first took her in his arms, and the continued worry for Cossack is what had made him stop when he spied the doctor in the halls. Lotor recognized him as one of the surgeons who had worked on Cossack, and he immediately ordered the man to talk to him about his friend's condition.

The doctor had been nervous, but didn't let that emotion cause him any hesitation as he slipped into medical jargon. Lotor had limited medical knowledge, knowing enough to do an adequate job of dressing wounds on a battle field. He wouldn't be able to do any life saving miracles, but he might be able to keep his soldiers alive long enough for a medical professional to save them.

The doctor had a chart with him, several papers clipped to it's surface. Lotor released his hold on Allura, being far more interested in the progress report on his friend than the girl. There was a diagram of Cossack's body, with the spine highlighted in red. The doctor's finger hovered over that red area, Lotor noting the red extending towards Cossack's legs.

"What does it mean doctor?" Lotor asked, having a sinking suspicion as to what the red signified.

"Well..." The doctor sighed heavily. "The red marks the damage to his spine. As you can see, much of it is focused here in the lower half. That is because that is where the majority of the shrapnel lodged itself in. There was extensive injury done to the spine...this is just an estimate, but we fear the damage was such that it will affect his mobility in his lower body. Especially in his legs."

If Lotor had been the one to hold the chart, it surely would have fallen to the floor, the prince going numb at the doctor's words. "Are you telling me...he might not be able to walk? That he'll be paralyzed?"

"That's always a possibility." The doctor was cautious as he answered. "We won't know for sure until the Commander awakens and tells us what's going on with his body. But..." The doctor lowered his eyes, and that was enough for Lotor to know how bad Cossack's chances were. "We are not holding out much hope that he'll be able to regain feeling in his legs."

"Damn!" Lotor snapped, even as the doctor turned the page on the chart, trying to show him something else about Cossack. But a hot flash of anger was coursing through him, Lotor moving to look at Allura. He hadn't forgotten she was there, distracted as he was by the news about Cossack. He switched to basic, snarling at her as he turned. "Are you happy, you little witch? You..."

He had expected to see her, either cowering from the animosity in his voice, or glaring defiantly at him. But she was gone, Lotor snarling wordlessly, as he turned this way and that, checking both sides of the long corridor. There was a lack of people around him, the doctor nervously shuffling through his papers.

"Where the hell did she go?" Lotor growled, and the doctor glanced up.

"Problem?"

"A small one." Lotor retorted, but offered no further explanation. "Keep me posted about the commander. I want to be informed the instant he wakes up."

"Yes, sire." Agreed the doctor, but Lotor was already stalking away. He had to fight to keep from growling continuously, a glare on his face as he tried to figure out which way Allura would have gone. And all the while he berated himself for the stupidity of diverting his attention from her, especially when he knew she wasn't broken yet. As an untrained and newly acquired slave, Allura should have been kept under a close watch. Letting go of her, and turning his back to her was just asking for her to take off.

He knew she wouldn't get far though, not with her looks and her body. She could try to walk the halls and pass for one of the many slaves that had the privilege of moving about the ship, but a beauty such as hers would invite danger. There wouldn't be many Drules who wouldn't try to pounce on such a tempting morsel, and Lotor was alarmed by how angry such a thought made him. Especially when the girl was to mean nothing to him, except as an outlet for years of anger and frustration.

And yet he felt possessive of her, Lotor not wanting anyone to touch Allura. He tried to tell himself it was because she was untouched, that he viewed her virginity as his right to take. He tried to reassure himself he'd feel none of this panic if he had done what he had wanted to, spent the night having sex with her, Haggar's vision be damned.

He barely remembered the communicator on his belt, Lotor snatching it off to radio the ship's command center. "Yevansta here." Came a female's voice, and Lotor snarled back.

"This is the prince. I'm heading east in corridor alpha twelve. I'm looking for a runaway slave, she has blonde hair and is dressed in brown. It was less than five minutes ago when she made a break for it."

"One moment please." Yevansta wisely did not comment about Lotor losing the slave in the first place. If she had, Lotor might have ordered her execution. Instead she grew silent save for the click clack of her fingers typing on her keyboard. And then, an answer came. "You're going in the right direction, She's three corridors away from you..."

"Acknowledged." Lotor said, and turned off his communicator. He began walking faster, practically barreling over a random slave at the next corner. He snarled and snapped his teeth at the frightened boy, but didn't pause to punish him for getting in his way.

When a frightened female's scream sounded in the hall, Lotor broke into a run. He heard laughter from passing soldiers, the men and women making comments about the pretty little slave that had been found unattended in the corridors. They didn't realize she belonged to their prince, and Lotor's stomach turned at the knowing looks one pair exchanged, as they joked about her current fate.

He stepped through a doorway leading into the next corridor, and there in the middle of the hall was three soldiers. Low level grunts from the looks of their uniforms, and not even one medal amongst them. Lotor slid to a halt at the sight of Allura in the hands of one, that Drule holding her arms pinned behind her back as another lifted her legs upwards. He already had his pants open, erection revealed and was struggling to get into place between Allura's thighs. She wasn't making it easy for him, struggling wildly, getting a leg free to kick out a threat.

"Damn but she's a wild cat!" One of the soldiers exclaimed in Drule. One of them laughed, but the one trying to press between her legs was visible annoyed by the fight in Allura.

"She needs to be tamed." He was saying, a thing Lotor privately agreed with. "Needs to learn that kittens can lose their claws!"

The third Drule had the remains of Allura's panties in his hands, the cloth up to his face so he could inhale it's scent. "Just hurry up already Petro! I want my turn!"

"Why wait?" asked the one who was holding Allura's arms. "She's got more than one hole, we should use them all. Really break this hellion in before handing her over to lost and found."

"Now that's an idea I can get on board with!" laughed the one with Allura's panties, seeming not to realize his doom was at hand. For Lotor was approaching, his expression absolutely livid, his eyes murderous. Without even thinking about it, Lotor had drawn his sword, the hum of lazon filling the hall. The sound was almost drowned out by Allura's screams, the man named Petro too intent on trying to guide his cock into the girl to pay attention to the angry prince approaching.

Allura was screaming, and it wasn't just a helpless keen, she was cursing the Drules, calling them all kinds of names and swearing she would make them pay for their defilement of her body. Later, when Lotor wasn't so angry, he'd have time to be impressed that she could make threats in this kind of situation. But for now he was carefully swinging his sword, the lazon blade biting into the neck of the Drule that held Allura.

The head fell forward, past Allura, who shrieked in surprised horror at the sight of it. Immediately the body fell backwards, taking Allura with it, the girl being pulled away from the one trying to rape her. Petro was standing there stupidly, cock in hand, as he stared. First at the body, and then upwards at his friend's murderer.

"Prince Lotor!" He managed to get out, and then Lotor was thrusting his sword into the Drule's chest. It went in to the hilt, Lotor listening to the squelching sounds as he viciously yanked his sword free. Blade coated in blood, gore, and bits of bone, he turned to the one with Allura's panties. The Drule was frozen in place, staring with a stupid look on his fact.

"Why?" He finally asked, and that got through to Lotor on some level.

"You should know I don't share my women with vermin!" sneered Lotor, and began to stab his sword forward. The remaining Drule managed to say something just as the sword went into him, an exclamation that would not save his life.

"She wasn't wearing your mark...she bore no collar...we thought..." He died before Lotor could find out just what they had thought, though he could guess. Allura wasn't dressed like a pleasure slave, wearing the drab brown tunic of a regular worker. They would have never dreamt she had more value to her than that, assuming she was anyone's prey. It was a dangerous status to hold, and that wasn't taking into account how beautiful a slave Allura was.

There were others in the hall, they had stopped to stare when Lotor began killing. They surely hadn't understood at first why he was coming to a slave's rescue, it was abnormal behavior for their prince. Lotor seethed, knowing this whole situation was insane, Allura making him think and act in ways that weren't normal for him. He didn't like that one bit, nor did he like the way his first thought upon looking at the girl on the floor, was the urge to comfort her.

Instead he wiped off the gore on his sword on the shirt of one of the dead soldiers. "Get up." He coldly told Allura, sheathing his sword. She had her mouth open, and was staring at him shocked. For an instant he had this wild fantasy that she was going to get up and throw herself into his arms for comfort, but then Allura blinked. And with that action, hate filled her eyes, the girl snapping at him.

"Monster! Turning on your own people!" It was the last thing he had been expecting, Lotor's jaw almost dropping as he stared at her shocked. "But I suppose it's to be expected. You're all uncivilized savages! Ruthless and without mercy, without any kindness or compassion!"

"Watch your mouth slave!" Lotor snapped, and bent enough to grab her by the arm. He hauled her up right, her tunic falling down to cover her once more.

"I suppose I should be glad." Allura continued. "It's three less monsters in the galaxy!"

"You should be grateful!" Lotor roared at her. "I saved you from rape at their hands!"

"Grateful is the last thing I feel!" Allura cried out.

"Then maybe next time I won't interfere!" He had the satisfaction of seeing her pale at those words, Allura going still in his hold.

"Wh...what do you mean next time?" Allura asked in a shaky voice.

"You don't realize what a foolish thing it was that you did...running off like that without my collar on you." He was taking pleasure in telling her this, watching her blanch. "You left yourself open to attack, unmarked you are fair game to anyone who comes along. And Allura? With a face as pretty as yours, you can bet there is many takers who would want to sample your body."

He flashed a cruel smile at her, and began dragging her down the hall. The Drules that had lingered quickly looked away, pretending as though they hadn't seen the exchange between prince and slave. He knew they could write off the killings as their prince protecting his property, though they wouldn't understand why he had allowed Allura to talk that way to him. At the very least she should have been slapped for her impertinence!

"There's a reason why I wanted to collar you." Lotor continued. "Normally slaves are for everyone's use. Just walking the halls as you did, leaves you open to other Drules interest." He felt the tremble in her, arm shaking in his grip. "There's not normally an exception to this, except in the case of the royal families' slaves. It's forbidden to touch those slaves without expressed permission..."

"And this collar, will keep me safe from further molestation?" Allura surmised, and Lotor nodded. Silence followed for several minutes, leaving Lotor to wonder what Allura was thinking. "I don't want it." She finally said, and Lotor almost whirled around, shocked anew. "I don't want anything from you, I don't want to bear your mark. And you know why? Because I am not a slave, you are not my master!"

"I most certainly am!" Lotor roared at her. "You may not accept it, not now. But the day will come when you will acknowledge me as master, and do it with a smile on your face."

"That day will never come!" Allura swore, trying to pull her arm free of his grip. "I'll die first!"

"I'm sure you'll wish for death many times over." Lotor retorted, resuming dragging her through the ship. "But Allura, it won't be granted. You're going to live a long life, serving underneath me."

"You should have killed me." She grumbled. "I'm a wasted investment."

"Let me be the judge of that." He had reached a room, the door swishing open after he pressed his thumb into the DNA encoded lock. He swung his arm forward, releasing Allura at the last second so that she fell to the floor. "Jorgis..." He tried not to bellow the collar maker's name, the man looking up from the slave he was currently fitting a collar around. "Get her measurements when you're done with him."

"Yes, sire." Jorgis said, and resumed welding the collar shut around the man's neck. It would seal seamlessly, to remain on the man's neck for forever unless of course the slave somehow won his freedom from the Drules.

Allura got up, rubbing her arm where Lotor had gripped her. She seemed to flinch as she watched Jorgis with the slave, the burly man chained down to a table in such a way that he couldn't really move. It was a matter of protection, for no one wanted the welding torch to slip off the collar's metal. It would be a waste of a good slave if an accident was to occur.

Lotor wandered over to the selection of collars Jorgis had on display, remembering his promise to pick out a pretty one for Allura. Of course any of the collars would have to be modified, to make room for Lotor's emblem. That emblem would be placed in the center of the collar, positioned on the front of Allura's throat.

"Here." Lotor said to Allura, holding out a silver collar with a sapphire rim. She seemed distracted by the collaring process, not noticing until Lotor held the collar up by her neck. He smiled, nodding in approval. "The sapphire will bring out the color of your eyes."

"It might as well be rust for all I care!" She hissed in defiance.

"You're a prince's property now." Lotor reminded her. "As such you must look the part."

"All done." Jorgis announced, welding torch replaced by a length of chain. He attached that chain to the ring on the collar, the other end being secured to link on the wall. It was there that the slave would remain, until his master came to pick him up. "Bring her over here.."

"No...!" Allura quickly protested, fighting when Lotor grabbed her arm. It made little difference, she was forced down onto the table, metal cuffs snapping in place around her wrists and ankles. Numerous chains held her down, and her head was placed in a metal frame to hold it steady too.

"Let me see it..." Jorgis said, and whistled in appreciation at the collar Lotor showed up. "Nice one. Not often used. I'll have to modify it to add your emblem to it, but it shouldn't take more than an hour to get it ready and on your slave."

"If you can have it done in less than an hour, there's a bonus in it for you." Lotor told him, and Jorgis smiled.

"I'll try my best." He said, then tsked. "But really, you can't rush perfection." Lotor just chuckled at that, watching a moment as Jorgis took measuring tape, and wound it around Allura's neck. The measurements had to be precise, so as not to make the collar too loose. Nor could they allow it to be too tight, a slave choking to death from the metal band around their neck.

"There's some things I need to see too." Lotor told Jorgis.

"It's fine." Jorgis said, waving him off in an absentminded way. "She won't be going anywhere until I'm done." Lotor nodded, casting one last look at the angry Allura. Her eyes were narrowed, hateful anger in the blue. She seemed to sneer when she realized Lotor was looking at her, but other than that she didn't react. A smirk was flashed her way, Lotor knowing the collaring process was just step one towards making her accept her new reality as his slave.

I couldn't figure out a good way to end this one. -_-

To Be Continued...

Michelle


	13. Chapter 13

The fresh clean scent of a woman was with him, each inhale of breath flavored with the briefest hint of flowers. He couldn't identify which flower she smelled like exactly, Sabbath nuzzling his face into hair. He very much like this woman's scent, and such was his drowsy state, that he didn't wonder why a woman was in bed with him. He merely enjoyed, his arms wound about a soft body, keeping the woman pressed against him.

He could feel her breasts resting against his one arm, Sabbath wanting to shift his hold, so that he could test the weight of them. He did another nuzzle, and murmured an endearment in Drule, some silly little phrase that held no meaning other than to let the woman know he was appreciative of her nearness. In more ways than one, his morning's erection pressing against her bottom.

Sabbath couldn't resist doing a slight grinding motion against her, teasing them both as he planted sleepy kisses on the nape of the woman's neck. It was at that movement of his, that the pleasant dream evaporated, Sabbath hearing the woman let out a frightened sound. The whimper didn't fit in with his perceptions of a willing partner, and his grogginess was quickly chased away.

Even before Sabbath opened his eyes, he was quickly reviewing the potential partners he hoped to find besides him. His options were limited, considering he was currently in the midst of an assignment far away from Doom. The women friends he sometimes courted would have remained behind on the home planet, and Sabbath had no pleasure slaves to warm his bed. It could have been a whore from a brothel, though Sabbath had always avoided those places for the sickness infested dens they were.

"Romelle." Sabbath said quietly, his open eyes revealing her back to him. He quickly lifted his head free of blonde hair, grateful a Drule lacked the human's ability to blush. He didn't let go of her, a guilty part of him liking holding her. He tried to reason it was for both their safety's, Sabbath not knowing how Romelle would react once she was free of his embrace.

She didn't say anything to him, save to let out a muffled sob. He shifted again, trying to put space between her and his erection. He was highly embarrassed by his body's condition, but also bothered by what had happened the night before. Sabbath had intended to be cold, to remain unfeeling around the former princess. He wasn't so cruel as to make her sleep on the floor, but he had refused to give up his bed to her.

So he had set her up on one of the cushioned chairs in the corner of his bedroom, giving her blankets and a pillow to ease her comfort. She had curled up, and gone to sleep, though Sabbath had remained awake for some time, just staring at her. He could admit in the privacy of his own thoughts that he liked looking at Romelle, the girl a blue eyed beauty that was very pleasing to the eyes.

Sabbath knew he wasn't the only one who thought Romelle beautiful, a fact that meant trouble for the girl. It only reminded him that he couldn't let her run around the ship unattended, and all his anger and possessiveness had come forth with that thought. The force of his feelings disturbed him, Sabbath wondering why he was so attracted to Romelle. Why he cared so much, more than he had ever cared for any other slave in his care.

Romelle wasn't the first slave for Sabbath to own. He had a small number of house slaves back on Doom, men and women who helped to take care of his property. None of them were used for sex, and Sabbath had always been careful to make sure the women that he kept were not pretty. Romelle was exactly the kind of slave he avoided, and not just because of her looks, but the trouble she would surely cause him.

A trouble that quickly manifested itself when she had began to dream, the girl tossing and turning in the chair. He had tried to ignore how disturbed she was by her nightmare, but then she had begun to whimper and cry, until finally he had moved to rouse her from her sleep. Romelle had woken with a scream, Sabbath catching her in his arms as she tried to leap forward. She hadn't exactly been comforted by being in his embrace, the girl crying and fighting him until she realized who he was. And then Romelle was clinging to him, breaking down into heart felt weeping.

In her panic stricken state, it had been easy to get the details from her about what had disturbed her so. Romelle had had dreams, about the family whose fate was so uncertain, the girl imagining them brutally killed. But more than that, she had relived the moments when that group of soldiers had cornered her, the molestation playing out much further than it had in reality. She might have attacked Sabbath if she hadn't recognized him as the one person who had saved her, who had stopped the rape from taking place.

It made her cling to him, the girl too frightened to go back to sleep. He had tried to pull apart from her, but Romelle had persisted, seeming to take comfort from his nearness. In the end, Sabbath had given up, gathering her in his arms, and taking her to bed. As strange as it seemed, she had been comforted by his hand running through her hair, and the way he rocked her soothingly. Eventually she fell asleep, tears drying on her cheeks. Sabbath had followed soon after, and he wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that he had held her in a protective embrace all night long.

"I...I'm sorry." Sabbath said, trying to apologize for the way he had woken them. "I...I was disoriented. I thought you someone else." She said nothing, just holding herself still. Romelle didn't even show curiosity, not asking who he had believed her to be. He had to fight to keep from babbling, not wanting to admit it had been a while since he woke up with a woman in his arms.

"I didn't mean to...to do what I did." He added, relaxing his hold. "I want you to know, you needn't fear that kind of behavior from me. I wouldn't purposefully take advantage of you."

A shaky sounding breath was expelled from her, and then Romelle was speaking. "You wouldn't?" She hid her surprise well, sounding more wary than anything.

"No, I wouldn't." He answered, and she slowly turned to face him. Her eyes were no longer rimmed with red, the girl having slept off her tears for hours now. "If there's one thing I can promise you, you'll be safe with me Romelle."

"Safe..." She echoed, then shook her head. "Is there such a thing...for a slave? Especially one that is going to Doom?"

"Sometimes." He said. "I want you to know...I'll treat you fairly. But...I expect you to behave, and do as I ask."

"Do as you ask?" A wary look. "What would you have me do...?"

He paused, not sure what kind of skills she had. What could a princess know of maintaining a clean house? "Can you cook?" A shake of her head, Sabbath feeling frustrated. "Sew? I suppose you can clean...that's one thing that doesn't take much skill." She flushed then, and he realized how insulting his words had been. "I didn't mean it that way! I just...I know you're used to a different lifestyle than a slave's..."

"I was never meant to be a slave..." She whispered.

"No one ever is..." Sabbath replied. "You could have done worse." He added, trying to paint a bright side for her. "As for as masters go, I am neither harsh nor cruel."

"I don't like that word." Romelle protested. "I shouldn't have a master..." Her face seemed to crumple, he panicked as he realized she was about to start crying again. "It wasn't supposed to be like this!" cried out Romelle, the first of her tears falling. "Arus wasn't supposed to fall, my family wasn't supposed to be killed!"

"Shhh..." Sabbath murmured, gathering her against his chest. She shook, and then began to softly pound her fists against him, doing a wordless crying. "Shh, I know. It's not fair. But then life often is not..."

"That doesn't make me feel better!" Romelle snapped, a bit of her earlier fire back in her eyes. "I don't want to be here...don't want to do this!"

"I've asked nothing of you..."

"Yet." She quickly pointed out, trembling. "But you will in time. I know your kind."

"My kind?" Sabbath arched an eyebrow at her.

"Drules." She hissed. "We've all heard extensively about what you do to worlds and people. You'll be no different from any of the others..."

"That's where you're wrong." Sabbath couldn't help but feel a little bit of annoyance at her words. Didn't she know yet that he was different? Hadn't he proved it by saving her, not once but twice? Did comforting her from her nightmares count for nothing?

"Oh really?" Romelle sat up when he did, eyes narrowed. "Then why are you here?" She demanded. "Why fight in this war? Why command soldiers? Why even keep slaves? You're profiting from your Empire's cruelty. If you were really different, you'd turn your back on the Drule way."

"If I had, we would have never met!" He hissed at her. "Then who would have prevented your gang rape, Romelle?" She sputtered, seeming shocked by that. Sabbath got out of the bed, trying to ignore the way his erection still tented the crotch of his pants. "You have much to learn. About Drules, the Empire, and even reality." With that said, he stalked to the bathroom, fingers already pulling on the drawstring waist of the pants. By the time the bathroom door was closed, he had the pants off, Sabbath stepping into the shower.

The cold water didn't do nearly as much as he would have liked to cool him down, his erection remaining as did his annoyance. And yet it didn't stop him from picturing Romelle in his mind, as he took his cock in hand, Sabbath doing a low growl of sound as he began to jerk off. As his fist pumped up and down the length of his hard shaft, he thought of the moment when he had first awaken. Of how Romelle had felt in his arms, all soft curves and pleasing woman. Even the memory of her sweet scent was enough to get him excited, Sabbath thrusting furiously into his hand.

He managed to keep from groaning out her name at his climax, seed splattering against the stall's glass. The water quickly washed it away, Sabbath standing there panting. He felt immediate shame, hardly believing he had masturbated over Romelle. It was a first for him, this imagining a slave to help him get off. It felt like a violation, not just of her, but of him, Sabbath wondering what kind of spell Romelle had cast over him.

Grumbling, he began to viciously wash his body. He wondered if it would not be wise to rid himself of Romelle, and yet knew there weren't really any Drules on Arus he would be able to entrust her to. Even among his friends back on the home world, they'd not be able to resist making a bed slave out of her, and that was something Sabbath protested with every fiber of his being. To the point it disturbed him, Sabbath wondering why he couldn't content himself to keep Romelle out of sight, out of mind.

"It'll get better when we get to Doom." He decided. Hopefully once there, King Zarkon would quickly send him off on another invasion. He could leave Romelle behind, set her up with the other slaves on his property, and forget all about her in between missions. Ideally the next campaign would be long enough a time for Sabbath to lose interest. Until then he just had to endure this time on Arus, Sabbath and Romelle forced to keep close quarters together.

"I can manage..." He said it out loud, as if that could convince him of his strength and will power. And yet, the instant he stepped out of the bathroom, his eyes locking with Romelle's, the little certainty he had gained, fled.

Clad only in a towel, Sabbath stalked over to the intercom system, intent on ordering up a breakfast for them both. He didn't ask Romelle what kind of foods she liked, Sabbath figuring it was time she start getting used to having decisions made for her. She'd have to eat what her master gave her, as well as wear what he commanded her to, Sabbath realizing the issue of her clothing had still not been decided. Nor would it anytime soon, Sabbath deciding to leave her in his shirt for now.

He set about to braiding his still wet hair, trying off the ends with bead fastenings. Romelle sat on the edge of the bed, watching him do this, but she didn't speak. "I have a house on Doom." Sabbath said, to fill in the silence. "It's no castle, but it is a modest size. Big enough to need at least half a dozen slaves to tend to it's maintenance. And an additional two to be on call for meal time."

He could see her reflection in the mirror, Romelle still refusing to speak. "They'll be able to show you the ropes...get you acclimatized to the ways things are done in my house..." Sabbath couldn't tell if she truly had no curiosity about the things he was saying, or if she was just that good at feigning indifference. "I live alone, save for my slaves." He added. "I'm not yet married, and my family lives elsewhere."

He finished braiding his hair just in time for the knock on the outer chamber's door. Sabbath stalked over and opened it, a brown clad slave wheeling in the meal. The slave kept his eyes lowered, but Sabbath was sure he hadn't missed anything. No doubt word would travel that Sabbath had been all but naked in the presence of his new slave, and people would assume they had been intimate.

"It's fine, leave it." Sabbath grumbled when the slave began trying to unload the cart's contents onto the table. The slave didn't question him, hurrying out of the room at the first chance. Romelle waited until the door was closed before she joined him at the table, surprising Sabbath when she began to help put the food out on the table.

"Do..." She hesitated, Sabbath and Romelle having started to eat the fine meal laid out before them. "Do you always make sure your slaves are so well fed?"

He paused, giving her question the consideration it deserved. "I make sure they all eat, and that they maintain a healthy weight." Sabbath admitted. "Although they don't get to enjoy such rich food normally." He hid a smile when she glanced down at her plate. "I'd eat up if I was you, Romelle. It might be a while before you get to enjoy such fine cuisine again."

She heeded his words, practically gobbling the food down. He actually chuckled then, admonishing her. "Slowly or you'll choke."

"Will...will I ever get to see my cousin?" It was a sudden but not unexpected question, Sabbath shrugging.

"It's not really up to me." He admitted. "She's the prince's slave now. And most slaves don't normally interact with ones from different households..." Especially those used for pleasure, he thought darkly.

"Will he treat her kindly?" Romelle asked a question Sabbath wasn't sure how to answer. Prince Lotor's lust for Allura was legendary, as was the animosity he harbored towards her. The young prince had been planning his revenge against Allura for three years now, the rumors speaking of a grave insult she had given Lotor. An insult that was only added to by the loss of Drule lives, the poverty many of their people suffered, and the way the expansion of the Empire had been halted by Voltron and the Galaxy Alliance.

Sabbath had apparently paused too long, for Romelle seemed to deflate. "Guess not." She murmured sadly, staring down at her plate.

"Every master is different." Sabbath told her. "I can say one thing in Prince Lotor's favor. He does not share his slaves with others. Your cousin will be protected in that way."

"Protected?" Romelle asked, brow furrowed.

"Yes. She'll bear his emblem." He explained, reaching for a glass of fresh water. "It marks her as a royal slave, and thus the other Drules will know they cannot...take certain liberties with her." She seemed to blanch, Romelle surely getting what he means. "You'll have to remain close to me during the times we leave this cabin." Sabbath added. "Or else I cannot assure your safety."

"The other Drules would hurt me." She said flatly, and he nodded.

"That they would."

"And this is perfectly normal among you?" He nodded again, and Romelle practically snarled. "It's barbaric! You take away people's rights, not even their bodies are theirs to own! I can't even walk amongst your kind without being molested?"

"I'm afraid that's the way it is." Sabbath sighed then. "You've mentioned you've heard stories about my people. Then you may have heard about how...active a Drule male's libido is."

"Just because they are hornier than the average human male, it doesn't give them a right to molest and rape people!" Romelle snapped.

"No, it doesn't." She was surprised by his agreement, eyes growing wide with shock. "But a few upset slaves won't change things. Change, if it were to come, has to start with our rulers...and I doubt very much King Zarkon and Prince Lotor would want things done differently."

"You tell me to trust you...to believe you won't harm me. How can I, after hearing about such things?"

"I guess we just have to wait and see." Sabbath finished his meal, then went to get dressed. He returned promptly, and gestured for her to stand. "Come Romelle. It's still early enough to beat the crowd."

"Are we going somewhere?" She asked, reluctantly putting aside her plate.

"I need to get you some things.." Sabbath said, hesitant to go into detail. He walked around the table, and took hold of her hand, Romelle not fighting him.

"Clothes?" She asked hopefully, and he nodded. She looked relived, following him trustingly out the cabin.

"We'll have to make a stop before that." He said, trying not to outright lie to her. She didn't question him, actually stepping closer to him as they passed by several soldiers. The men blatantly stated at Romelle in open appreciation, forcing Sabbath to struggle not to threaten them.

All too soon they were inside Jorgis work shop, the collar maker having no slaves at the moment. The purple skinned Drule smiled in greeting at Sabbath, and gave a curious look to Romelle. Sabbath knew she made an odd picture, being clad in one of his shirts, but he didn't try to make excuses.

"You just missed the prince." Jorgis was saying, speaking in basic.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he was getting that new slave of his collared." Continued Jorgis. "The one that looks a lot like your slave."

Romelle reacted to that, but before she could say anything, Sabbath was speaking. "The former princess of Arus?"

"Is that what she was?" Jorgis wondered. "Eh...no matter. A slave's a slave." He shrugged. "You came at a good time. Most of the commanding officers are still either sleeping, or whoring it up with their new slaves. I can get your girl fitted and out of here before the afternoon rush starts."

"Fitted?" Romelle was looking between the two Drules, confusion in her eyes. "Are you a tailor?"

Jorgis looked annoyed by that, and he quirked an eyebrow at Sabbath. "You're letting her talk without permission?"

"I've given her leave to speak freely for now." Sabbath quickly said. Jorgis snorted at that.

"Man, you really are besotted if she got you to grant her that!" He started to walk away, waving a hand at the display of collars. "Find one you like, and then I'll get to work fitting her for it."

"Collars..." Romelle said softly, staring with dawning horror in her eyes.

"It's necessary." Sabbath said, bringing her so far unresisting form over to the display.

"Necessary?" She repeated, then made a scoffing sound. "What purpose does this serve except to degrade and humiliate me?"

"It's a way to keep track for one thing." Sabbath answered. "There's a locator implanted in each collar..."

"So no one can escape!" She surmised, and made a swing at the display with her arm. Her intent was to knock it over, but Sabbath caught her by the wrist before she could cause even one collar to fall to the floor.

"Yes." Sabbath sighed. "Doom doesn't look kindly on slaves that run, OR masters that lose them." He looked away from her, and picked out a collar, choosing one that was a pearl white metal. It was simple in appearances, but then he had never been one for flashy displays of wealth.

"And this is to be a part of me for how long?" Romelle asked, staring at the collar.

"For as long as you remain a slave..." She closed her eyes then, but he gave her credit, she didn't faint. Wordlessly, Sabbath led her over to Jorgis, and helped her onto the table. She seemed in control of herself until the first of the manacles snapped into place, and then Romelle went wild. She began crying, struggling as best she could, trying to get free.

"Easy Romelle, easy!" Sabbath told her. "It will not hurt." But it was hurting him to see her distress, and that made him want to growl even more. It was ridiculous, he had collared slaves before, so why was this one any different? Why did seeing Romelle so upset make him want to hold her hand, and whisper reassurances during the whole process?

"Then why the chains?" She shrieked out in demand.

"You have to be still for when I seal the collar into place." Answered Jorgis. That did not calm Romelle, the former princess crying harder. Jorgis was immune to her tears, fitting the frame around her to hold her head steady. Sabbath wished he could be so cold and callous, knowing it was costing him points in Jorgis' eyes for each second he wasted in trying to reassure Romelle. And yet he couldn't stop, Sabbath giving in and taking hold of her hand. Fingers laced with hers, he bent over her, whispering things. She had to stop her shrieking to hear what he was saying, and that distracted her enough for Jorgis to take her neck's measurements. Sabbath would continue to speak reassurances during the hour it would take to make a collar that would fit her, and all through the welding process. And all the while, Romelle stared at him, a betrayed look in her eyes.

To Be Continued!

Michelle

Lotor Sincline, I just noticed the dates of your review...they were done on my birthday! Neat little present! :D Thanks! Glad the chapter helped refresh your memory. And you're right, it he would be one horny goat as you put it, to do it with Allura after Haggar's warning. Eventually, there will come a time when he will want to do it with Allura and have to keep holding back because of the premoniton. Ah..I'll spoil you...Haggar doesn't understand her own premonition...it's a warning against raping Allura cause one day Lotor would come to want Allura's love...and if he rapes her, he'd never get that love. One act of lust would cost him everything as far as Allura is concerned. Of course as you'll see in upcoming chapter, he's a big bastard another way...and I held him back, I really did in regards to her daddy! TenJP (from LJ) helped me improve upon the plot, cause it was looking pretty hopeless as far as romance developing. But I've yet to try and write the ideas she helped come up with. ^^"' But someday! *wistful sigh*

Romelle does have it better with Sabbath. But she's also having this...well survivor's guilt, that doesn't get better when she sees others of her family suffering. I think 14 is the chapter where Lotor is especially evil, and she sees Allura AND Aunt Orla. You can guess those two aren't faring as well as poor Romelle! Ha ha ha, as for the curse falling on those drules, nah it wouldn't have happened. The premonition curse was targeted especially around Lotor. Botias had said it was like a nice twist on Harem Slave, Lotor getting the warning before he did something totally unforgiveable. And your slave poop comment had me cracking up! Heh...in a future chapter, Lotor's got Allura on a leash, dragging her around while he deals with stuff...XD


	14. Chapter 14

The ruins of the castle of lions was behind him, the building in shambles. A segment of floor had collapsed on the highest level, bringing down with it the eastern tower. The tower to the West still remained standing, though it's white marble walls were charred, blotchy black stains marking where it had been pummeled with lasers. All the windows had been blown out, the glass shattered and lying on the lawn. No one would be sweeping the glass up, or attempting to repair the castle. It would remain like this, a ruined reminder of Arus' glory days.

It was only the second day since Arus had fallen, but the paradise it had once been seemed a far distant memory. His men had taken the time to take down the castle's banners, the royal family crest being replaced with Zarkon's, the flags changed to that of Doom's. Lotor had nodded in approval when he saw what they had done. It was just one more step towards demoralizing the population, and he knew it would be a devastating sight not just to the Arusians but to the rest of the galaxy to see Doom's colors on the castle of lions.

They would see that soon, Lotor watching as Drules ran about the grounds, getting things ready for the upcoming broadcast. Large speakers had been brought in, all to better amplify his voice. Cameras were positioned all over the field, ready to capture the castle and the scene before it from all angles. And a platform had been built, the small stage positioned on the lowered drawbridge.

There was wooden x-shaped crosses on the stage, manacles open as they waited for bodies to be strapped to them. Lotor planned to have the corpses of the fallen Alfor, along with several lesser nobles mounted onto the crosses. Alfor's would take center point on the stage, his body perfectly preserved by the chemicals they had filled him with. Alfor would be the star of the broadcast, the leader of the Galaxy Alliance dead for all to see.

They hadn't yet brought out the bodies, but Lotor wasn't concerned. He was currently going over a checklist, the soldier next to him, rattling off things that needed the prince's approval. Another soldier approached him, stopping a respectful distance away as he waited for Lotor's acknowledgment. Lotor waited a moment, before arching an eyebrow at the new soldier.

"Prince Lotor, the captured slaves are ready and waiting to be positioned."

"Let them keep waiting." Lotor said, ignoring the pull on the chain he had wrapped around his left hand. "I want the bodies put out on stage before the slaves are brought out. It will be all the more satisfying a reaction to capture on film when they see their rulers already on display."

"Yes, sire." The soldier saluted Lotor, then hurried away.

"Now where were we?" Lotor asked, even as the chain was pulled tighter.

"Lights." Said the soldier. "We've run several strings of them over the draw bridge, and have brought in several large spot lights to shine on the stage."

"Good, good." Lotor nodded, the chain rattling wildly. "What about the mic checks? I want sound quality to be as good as the visuals."

"We've put an amplified boost to your microphones" answered the Drule. "We'll be able to hear a pin drop. Your words will not go unheard."

"They better not." warned Lotor. "I will not suffer any setbacks to this broadcast."

"Er yes..." The Drule seemed nervous, and glanced not at Lotor, but at something behind him. The chain rattled even more, but Lotor studiously ignored it. "And we have our techs in place to implement the jamming signals. The broadcast will play out through the Denubian Galaxy, overriding the regular programming of each and every planet."

"Perfect." Lotor smiled then. The Drules had perfected the art of cutting into another's signal, but this would be the first time they sent out a broadcast on a galactic scale. They wanted it to go out live, and Lotor knew his father would be watching from the home world.

"Sire, if everything meets your approval, we can start the broadcasting in the next ten minutes..."

"Yes, do that." Lotor said. "Have them hurry and mount the bodies. And make sure the remaining members of Arus' royalty are present. I'm sure it'll be a suitable horrific sight, to see all those women and children enslaved."

"Monster!" A voice snapped from behind him, the bowing soldier seeming to twitch in surprise at the insult. Lotor gave him a dismissive wave, and finally responded to the chain by jerking on it. A cry of pain was heard, someone being forced forward by the chain's pull. He didn't turn to look at that someone, knowing it was the collared Allura.

"Think of it Allura. The spectacle! It might even make the slaves cry." Lotor smirked.

"Just what are you planning?" She demanded when she recovered from the jerk on her leash. That length of chain Lotor held had it's end fastened to Allura's collar, the girl effectively leashed to him. He had spent much of the day dragging her along with him, confidant she wouldn't be able to wander off now. Except for the chain he held, he had proceeded to ignore her, going about his business though he had been sure to conduct it in basic so she could understand just what was about to happen.

"You're a smart girl, aren't you Allura?" Lotor asked, making sure to keep her well away from the stage. "Surely you've figured it out by now..."

"Yes, but...whose bodies are you planning to display?"

He tsked then, wondering how she could have missed the obvious. "Why Allura, I would think you'd know. Several key members of the ruling class, including your beloved father."

"Father? NO!" Allura cried out, her voice so shrill several Drules looked their way. "Hasn't he suffered enough at your hands? Let him be at peace in death!"

"I doubt he could find peace after the way he died. And that's not counting what happened to his planet, his people, and his daughter!" Lotor retorted, and began walking towards the castle drawbridge. Soldiers were on it, some standing on the platform, laboring with the bodies that were being secured to the crosses. Allura stumbled along behind him, her hands gripping the chain as though that could stop it's pull on her neck.

"Leave my father alone you fiend!" Allura managed to shout at him, and he laughed.

"You're fortunate my father isn't here." Lotor said in a conversational tone. "Now he's the REAL monster. You don't even want to imagine the kind of things he would do to defile your dear father's body."

"Somehow that doesn't make me feel better." He heard her mutter. A pause, and then curiosity got the better of her. "Why would you hold back where he wouldn't?"

"I'm more of a religious man than my father." He was serious, even as she snorted. "I've got respect for the dead, to a point. Though it won't stop me from inviting the whole galaxy to view Alfor's body." He turned to look at her then, seeing she was red faced with anger. "You see Allura, they need to see for themselves what happens to those who go against the Doom Empire..."

"I think they already know." Allura pointed out, but Lotor shook his head no.

"No, the price Alfor paid for his defiance must be shown. His manipulations and thievery, his interference, his refusal to ally himself with our Empire...No one can be allowed to get away with so much...It's not enough to topple his planet, we want his legacy destroyed."

"The Galaxy Alliance." She breathed out. "You want to bring it down..." He nodded, but Allura laughed. "You won't succeed. Even with my father gone, there are others to lead."

"None with even half the strength of character and determination Alfor possessed. And that's not taken into account the destruction of Voltron."

"Voltron..." A shake of her head, Allura letting go of the chain to brush back her bangs. "How did you do it? How did you succeed in bringing down our defender?"

"A little luck and a lot of magic." Was all he would say about that. Truth be known he didn't know if it was even possible for the spell to be recreated, Lotor remember the price Haggar had paid. Not only Hagger, her coven of witches and warlocks still in comas from the backlash of power they had suffered through. "As smart as every one thought your father to be, he did make at least one stupid mistake."

"And that is what?" Allura's voice was frosty in that moment.

"He never tried to replicate Voltron." Lotor told her. "Or maybe he was just selfish."

"Selfish? My father was anything but!" Allura protested, her jaw having dropped open.

"Oh really? Then how else can you explain why he hoarded Voltron's secrets." Lotor waved at her with the chain. "We've been through your castle's secrets. There's been no record of him letting slip even one tiny tidbit of information where Voltron is concerned. If he really wanted the Galaxy Alliance to flourish, why did he make it so dependent on Arus' defender? If the Alliance had had several Voltrons at their beck and call, I doubt the Doom Empire would still be standing!"

She seemed to have no answer to that, Allura looking away. He drew her attention back to him with his next words. "I've deployed salvage crews in search of the pieces of Voltron. Even if its broken to the point it's unfixable, we may still have a use for it."

"Use?" Her questioning look didn't last long, Allura gasping. "You hope to recreate Voltron! Don't you?" He did not deny it, smiling happily. "You can't!"

"Words won't be enough to stop us." Lotor said, and turned away from her. They had reached the stage, and already the bodies of Arus' dead royalty were mounted on the crosses. He heard Allura let out a dismayed cry, and then she was trying to rush past him.

"Father!" She got a few feet forward, and then the chain ran it's length, abruptly stopping her.

"That's good Allura." Lotor said approvingly. "Save that heart felt distress for the broadcast." He pulled her to him, and glanced around. Someone had thought to start recording their approach to the stage, Allura's cries captured for all to see.

"Prince Lotor, we're ready to begin." He nodded, and dragged Allura to the back of the stage. Steps were built into the platform, and he climbed those now, pulling Allura along with him. The cameras were being worked, and slaves were being brought out. A large grouping of the slaves his commanding officers had claimed for themselves, along with the surviving members of the royal family.

Lotor saw several blonde women that bore resemblance to Allura, including that cousin of hers, Romelle. She was standing next to a boy who couldn't be much older than fourteen. His hair was a shocking orange color, all curly like an afro. Romelle had her hands on his shoulders, alternately drawing comfort from the boy, and offering support to him.

He heard Allura whispering names behind him. "Romelle...Bandor...Aunt Orla!" He was not surprised that she began to cry, sniffling and sobbing her relief that some of her family had survived the massacre.

The lights had not yet flooded the stage, Lotor walking to the podium that stood situated just before Alfor's body. Before the drawbridge, the other group of slaves were standing, frightened and milling uncertainly. When the lights flashed on, a collective gasp rose from the crowd, horror at the heart of it. They saw the bodies, and with it, any hope they had at being saved surely fled them.

Lotor fought not to grin, his hands gripping the sides of the podium as he waited for the cue to begin speaking. A Drule technician counted out the seconds, than gave the signal to begin speaking.

"I give you greetings, both to the home world of the Doom Empire, and to the rest of the Denubian Galaxy." Flashes of light were going off all around him, Drules photographing the moment for prosperity. "Please, do not attempt to adjust your view screens. We have taken control of the air waves to give you this important message." He paused a beat, all to draw out the suspense. "Arus, long a thorn in the Empire's side, heart of the Alliance, and home to it's leader..." Another pause, the cameras panning back to take in the castle with it's Doom colors and banners.

"Has at long last fallen!" A cheer erupted from the gathered Drules, and the Arusian slaves began bemoaning their fates.

"Silence!" screamed a guard, cracking a lazon whip over the heads of the nearest slaves. Many were immediately cowed, though a few whimpers were still heard.

"I come to you live, from the ruins of the castle of lions." Continued Lotor. This broadcast wasn't just being aired throughout the galaxy, but also at various spots on the planet Arus. The Drules wanted the Arusians to know what had happened to Alfor and the other members of the ruling class. To know there was no help coming for them, no hope left of a resistance.

"You can rest assured that the many villages and cities of Arus lie in a similar state of shambles." Lotor told them, more cheering from the Drules. "There is no way left for the people of this planet to run to, to hide. We have captured every point of civilization, the people processed and enslaved." The camera pulled back to show the crowd of slaves, and then zoomed in on the group of former royalty. The women and children were all weeping, clinging to each other.

"But more than that, we have taken your leaders." Lotor said with supreme satisfaction. "Some will live on as slaves of Doom. But others..." His eyes flashed with dark emotion, the camera zooming in on the bodies on the platform. "Were not so fortunate."

He let the reality sit in, hysterical sobbing erupting from Allura's enslaved family. The slaves in front of the draw bridge were no better, hoarse cries of Alfor's name being heard.

"As you can now see. There is no one left to lead you." Lotor was confidant then. "And should one of you pests have the balls big enough to step into the role vacated by Alfor, a similar fate will befall you!" A smirk then, Lotor jerking on the chain to cause Allura to come forward and fall on her knees. Her name was whispered through the crowd, her eyes angry and wet with unshed tears.

"Your men slain, you wives and daughters enslaved! It won't just stop with Arus! This will be repeated again and again, we will allow no one to make a mockery of us! Arus had it's chance to ally with us, and spit in our face. This planet will pay the price for it's King's foolishness!"

Lotor pounded a fist on the podium. "Your King has spoken! The great and glorious Zarkon has decreed that Arus will be no more! It shall be mined of all it's resources, stripped of all its wealth. And when we have choked out every bit of life from this planet, we will leave it. A timeless memorial to show the folly of going against Doom!"

The Drules were cheering again, giving a rousing round of applause. Some even hoot and hollered, waving their swords in the air. Lotor waited for them to calm, looking dead center in the camera. "Try and prepare all you like. Doom is coming, and Doom will not be stopped." At those words the broadcast was ended, the camera zooming in one last time on Alfor's body. They did a close up of his face, expression permanently sad and contorted with pain.

Once the recordings were done with, the commanding officers came to collect their slaves. The Arusians were not yet broken, at least not all of them, several fighting to stay with the others. Including Romelle, clinging to the boy as Lotor's commanding General tried to pry her away. The boy was crying, looking even younger than fourteen as his face turned red, and tears leaked down his cheeks.

"Sister!" He was screaming, hands curled into fists on her shirt. Lotor idly wondered why she wasn't in a slave's outfit, watching as Sabbath and the other commander worked to pull the two apart. "NO! Let me go!"

"Bandor!" Romelle cried out, and then screamed when her brother's owner cuffed him upside the head. The boy's grip loosened enough to pry him off the woman, and he was dragged away. Romelle stared after him, and them crumpled, ending up her knees. Sabbath placed his hands on her shoulders, surely to restrain her from charging after her brother.

"How cruel..." Allura was whispering. He turned and saw she had witnessed the scene between sister and brother. She glared when she realized Lotor was looking down at her, Allura rising to her feet. She looked very much like she wanted to slap him, and knowing Allura's suicidal state of mind, she might very well risk the punishment to do just that. "You're all monsters!" He jerked on her chain, knocking her off balance to distract her from striking him. "Each and every one of you!"

"This is nothing." Lotor told her dispassionately. "This is business, this is war." She looked at him as though uncomprehending, Lotor sighing. "A message had to be sent out. The rest of the galaxy couldn't go on fighting us."

"You underestimate the Alliance and the humans. We'll keep on fighting." Allura told him. "if anything, this will only make us more determined to be rid of you Drules!"

"It'll make for interesting times if the galaxy does fight the empire." Lotor acknowledge, then nodded at the approaching soldier. "What is it?"

"Sire...It's Commander Cossack...he's regained consciousness!"

Lotor immediately forgot about his conversation with Allura, gesturing for another solider to approach him. "Here." He said gruffly, handing Allura's chain to him. "Take her back to my private cabin."

"Yes, sire." He didn't need to make sure the soldier would behave himself with Allura, Lotor trusting his emblem to keep her safe.

"Let's go." He said to the first soldier. The soldier immediately fell into step with Lotor, the prince interrogating him about any and all details of Cossack's awakening. But the man did not know much, having been dispatched the minute Cossack had opened his eyes. With disgust, Lotor sent the Drule off, and hurried the rest of the way onto the ship that served as the main medical facility for his armada.

To Be Continued...

Michelle


	15. Chapter 15

It wasn't particularly crowded in the recovery wing of the medical ship, the corridors mostly empty save for a few orderlies and nurses. They all bowed as Lotor passed, their faces struggling to remain impassive. They couldn't quite keep out the sympathetic light in their eyes, and that only fueled Lotor's worries for Cossack. It let him believe that the worse had surely happened, the prince trying to steel himself to put on a strong front for his friend.

He quickly came across the private room that had been assigned to the Commander. A doctor was present, as well as a handful of nurses. They surrounded Cossack's bed, hiding the commander from sight. Lotor stood in the open doorway, just watching for a moment as he listened to the voices, and watched the flurry of activity. The nurses were checking on Cossack, one taking his vitals, another replacing his iv bag with fresh pain mediation.

The doctor held some kind of wand in his hand, a little wheel at the one end. A third nurse was pulling back the commander's blankets, to reveal his bruised and battered looking legs. The doctor than proceeded to run the wheeled end down Cossack's right leg, from knee to just before the toes. Lotor couldn't see Cossack's face, but he could hear the mounting panic in his voice.

"No." Cossack said, then growled. "Damn you, I said no! I can't feel it, I can't feel anything down there!"

"What about this?" The doctor asked, pressing a claw into Cossack's knee in an attempt to be thorough.

"You can poke and prod me all you like, and my answer will still not change!" lamented Cossack.

"The doctor is just trying to do his job." Lotor spoke up, and the group around the bed reacted in surprise.

"Your highness." The doctor said, offering up a bow to the prince. Lotor gave a slight nod to the doctor and nurses, several of them stepping back from the bed so he could see his friend's face. Cossack was without his usual humor in his eyes, mouth in an uncharacteristic frown as he glared down at his legs.

"I don't care what he's trying to do. I already told them what they need to know. I can't feel my legs!"

"We have to explore all avenues of possibility." The doctor insisted. "There's a chance, small as it may be, that you might..."

"Might what!" interrupted Cossack with a rude noise. "Might not be an invalid for the rest of my life?"

The doctor looked at Lotor, an almost helpless expression on his face. Drules could be notoriously difficult patients under the best of circumstances. They were a million times worse when they received news as bad as Cossack had. To a Drule mobility meant everything, and though Cossack was having no problem using his arms, he would truly feel worthless if he could never regain mobility in his lower half.

"Leave us." Lotor ordered, and such was his authority that the doctor did not protest. A word to the nurses had them finish with the iv bag, and then the group was leaving. The door shut behind them, and Lotor inched closer to the bed.

"It's bad prince." Cossack said once they were alone. "I've no feeling in my legs from the thighs down. I can't move them, and I certainly couldn't feel all the touching the doctor and his nurses were doing!"

Lotor wasn't sure what exactly to say, his mind seizing on something. "It's just your legs?" Cossack fixed him with a bleak look, Lotor abashed. "Sorry." He hadn't meant to minimize the extent of Cossack's injuries. "But...you can feel other things can't you?"

"If you mean my prick, yes. That bitch who shot me down didn't render me impotent." But Cossack didn't look happy. "I still have enough feeling down there that I don't

embarrass myself by pissing and shitting everywhere. I still have control of those functions, still can get an erection. For all the good it will do me." Cossack pounded a fist on the mattress. "What woman will want me now?"

"You're a decorated general in the Doom Empire." Lotor began, and Cossack snorted.

"It will mean nothing now. What does it get me except a few medals and a pension? A lot of good that will do me, trying to find a wife. No Drule female will want a male that has been weakened."

Lotor knew that was true, Drules especially the females hated weakness in their own race. They would want a man that was strong, and capable of fighting for them, not one that was bound to a wheelchair. "There's always slaves." Lotor tried to spin a positive out of it. They might not be as good as a wife, but they could take care of Cossack's sexual desire.

"It's not the same and you know it." Cossack growled. "Sure they're good for scratching an itch, but who makes a commitment to a slave?" A pause then, Cossack snorting in disgust. "Only the most addle minded of Drules!"

There was on occasion when a Drule took such a strong shine to one of their slaves, that marriage was involved. Those Drules were generally looked down on for their stupidity, Lotor's people feeling love and lust should be kept separate where slaves were concerned.

"Did the doctor not say anything to give you hope? Even just a small semblance of it?" Lotor finally asked.

Cossack quickly shook his head no. "Oh he tried. But it's kind of hard to believe when even the doctor lacks optimism in his eyes." A snort followed that, Cossack making a fist. "He says there's a slim chance, maybe not even three percent, that I might regain feeling back in my legs."

"That's something though..."

"It's not even ten percent!" Cossack snapped. "And he just said I'd might get feeling, like I'd be able to feel when something touches me there. He said nothing about being able to walk again!"

"Well, you'll just have to prove him wrong." Lotor decided. "Prove them all wrong by regaining full use of your legs!"

"Easier said then done." Cossack muttered. A pause, and then Cossack was growling. "I hope you got the bitch that did this to me!"

"Of that you can be assured." Lotor said. He knew what would be the right thing to do in this situation, to offer up Allura to Cossack to do as he saw fit. It was Cossack's right to take revenge for what she had done to him, and yet Lotor couldn't, wouldn't hand her over. Not even to the man who was among one of his best friends.

"The former princess of Arus is currently coping as best she can with her new situation." Added Lotor, and surprise was in Cossack's eyes.

"That was Allura?" Lotor nodded, and Cossack blew out a loud breath. "Damn..."

"You can say that again."

"Hmph. I suppose I know what you've been doing all this time I've been unconscious!" Cossack exclaimed.

"Not...exactly." hesitated Lotor. Cossack was curious, staring at him with unvoiced questions. "Haggar had one of her visions..."

"Oh man..." grumbled Cossack. "Don't tell me you let her put you off fucking the slave!" Lotor shifted, uncomfortable, Cossack's eyes widening. "You did, didn't you?"

"It's bad..." Lotor told him. "Haggar said she saw my ruin, and possibly the ruin of the Doom Empire if I took Allura to bed. You can understand why I would be hesitant after getting news like that."

"Yeah." Cossack sighed. "I would have laughed at such a vision just days earlier. But that was before that brat ruined MY life." He and Lotor both snorted at that. "Who would have thought she'd get lucky enough to land a hit on a ship, let alone hit it in such a way as to take it down?" Cossack sighed then. "The Gods must really hate me..."

"Now don't say that."

"But it's true! I would have been better off dead than stuck like this!" Lotor was alarmed by Cossack's words, letting his worry fill his eyes. "I'm not saying I'm going to

do anything drastic..."

"You better not!" growled Lotor in a low threat.

"I mean, you don't have to worry about me killing myself!" Cossack reassured him. "I'm not taking the coward's way out of this."

"Good. Because if there's one thing you're not, it's a coward." Lotor told him.

Cossack nodded in response. "Yeah. Though sometimes...oh I dunno...I haven't had that much time to think. But the thought did cross my mind that if I had been a coward, I would never have been in this position to be crippled in the first place!" Lotor did not know what to say to that, echoing Cossack's sigh.

"So tell me..." Cossack said, not content to let the conversation lapse into awkward silence. "Has Arus fallen completely?"

"A lot has been going on while you were unconscious." Lotor told him. He tried to tease him, though he felt awkward in his attempts to what was normally such a natural act for them. "You've been sleeping on the job, missing out on the festivities."

"Don't you know I always wake up in time for the best parties?" Cossack quipped back, which put Lotor at ease.

"All pockets of resistance has been stamped out." Lotor said. "You'll see for yourself soon enough. The space around the planet is littered with the broken ships of the Arusian forces, it's a carnage on a massive scale." Lotor knew it would take decades to clean up, and that was provided the Drule gave a care to allow such a thing. Cossack seem satisfied to hear that, leaning against his pillows with a slight smile on his lips.

"We already made an official broadcast today about Arus' defeat." Continued Lotor. "I had just literally wrapped up my speech when word came to me that you had

awakened."

"Aw, but you didn't have to rush off to see me!" Cossack protested.

"You are my friend." Came Lotor's simple answer. Cossack had to know what that meant, the value Lotor placed on him.

"I hope the speech you gave was suitably demoralizing. Not just to the Arusians, but to the rest of the galaxy." Cossack said. A wistful look crossed his face. "I would have loved to have come along for the ride of subjecting the rest of the Denubian..."

"You may have to sit out for a few battles. but you know me. I'm still holding out hope that you will recover enough to join me for the rest of the Empire's fight." Lotor told him. Cossack looked away at that, but not before Lotor noticed the hopeless air about him. "We're still searching for the remains of Voltron..." It was still to early to really expect any results on that front, though Lotor was impatient anyway. His return to Doom would be delayed so long as they didn't have any salvageable parts to bring back with him.

"It'll be the boring part of the invasion now, this waiting." Lotor finished. He himself had expected to spend much of the waiting period enjoying Allura. Now he didn't even have that to look forward to!

"Can't Haggar use her magic to like...do a tracking spell?" Cossack asked. "What?"

"Haggar is in no shape to do any magic." Lotor told him. "Nor is her coven. They're all laid out in bed, comas for the lot of them save for Haggar. But the witch suffered worst of all..." He thought of Haggar's heavily bandaged face, the puss that had leaked through the gauze and shuddered. Cossack did not miss that reaction he had had.

"That bad eh? And here I am feeling sorry for myself." Cossack sighed. "I still can't believe I got taken down by a human. By a mere slip of a girl. It's embarrassing."

"It would have been worse yet if you had let her succeed in being the death of you!" Lotor said fiercely.

"Keep that in mind for yourself as well." Cossack advised. "I don't know what Haggar's vision means, but I don't want to lose you."

"You won't." Lotor assured him. "Now, get some rest. "

"I think I spent enough of the last two days sleeping." Grumbled Cossack, though he did look weary.

"I'll see you later Cossack." Lotor said, and moved away from the bed.

"Do me a favor prince." Cossack called after him. "Keep the staff away from me. At least for the next few hours."

"Will do." Promised Lotor, and then he was exiting the room. A nurse glanced his way, and Lotor slowly shook his head no. She frowned, but seemed to accept that, moving to enter another room. Lotor echoed her frown, his thoughts still on Cossack as he began to walk back the way he had come. He was warring with a lot of emotions, relief chief among them all. But also sadness, and frustration at the situation Cossack found himself in, Lotor knowing he could do nothing. No matter how many people he threatened, killed, or bribe, it couldn't force Cossack's legs to move.

And with that knowledge came anger, Lotor snarling as one name came to mind. Allura. Without a doubt it was all her fault Cossack was in this mess, the girl's hands dirty with the commander's blood. And not just his, but the blood of countless others, Lotor remembering the friends he had lost to this war._ ~None of this would have happen if she had agreed to marry me three years ago!~ _A furious Lotor thought.

He still didn't understand what he had done that was so abhorrent to her back when he was only seventeen years of age. Back then he had led a life under the radar, lazy and indulgent, his worse crime taking the form of being over affectionate to the house hold slaves. He doubted Allura had even heard of him before the proposed marriage was broached, Lotor just a faceless name tied to his father's legacy.

His father's activity had overshadowed anything else, the Drule building up a reputation not only for himself, but for their people and the Empire. It was glorious when the Doom Empire was succeeding, and Lotor would have thought that countless planets would have jumped at the chance to ally themselves so closely with it. Why it was practically unheard of for Doom to even consider sharing power, and yet that was what they had offered to Arus. Their two worlds would have combined, joining forces and becoming unstoppable. There would have been no downside, and many lives would have been saved, both Arusian and Drule.

And yet Allura and her father had considered none of that, so disdainful of the offer, sneering insults against the Drule. Lotor still remembered vividly the things Alfor had said during that call, how he had acted as if the Drules were pests, ones the human King would only be too glad to get rid of. Such blatant hatred towards the Drules had surprised the young prince, Lotor hadn't been exposed to much racism against his own people back then.

He certainly hadn't expected a King to be in so little control as to let hate interfere with business. If Alfor had been that out of control, no wonder he had poisoned his own daughter's thoughts, making her hate just as strongly. That hate was everything, destroying the alliance before it had time to be in place, crushing any chance of peace between their worlds. The war had continued for three more years, and with each month it had seemed to grow more intense, the violence and rivalry between the two worlds igniting.

A prolonged war was expensive to maintain, but the Drules had had no choice. Arus continued to attack them, preventing their conquest of new worlds, and attempting to liberate the lands they had claimed. The worlds that were firmly entrenched as part of the Empire, had managed to remain that way, although sometimes just barely. Sometimes Alfor and his damn Galaxy Alliance cut off trade routes, preventing supplies from being brought to the home world. Often the unfortunates of Doom went hungry, food and medical supplies scarce.

The King and the nobles were often heard talking about the poverty stricken state of much of Doom. Zarkon himself never failed to miss a chance to drive home the point that this was all Arus' fault, that none of this would be happening if they had agreed to the alliance. Lotor knew his people were starved and disease ridden, all because of Alfor and Allura's hatred of the Drules. There was much blame to place on their shoulders, and with Alfor dead, Lotor wondered if Allura would be up to the burden.

One woman, a mere slip of a girl, couldn't begin to atone for the hardships the Drules had suffered. The whole of Arus would be worked, the people in turn forced to toil at work that was meant to better the Drules' situation. With Arus fallen, and Voltron destroyed, the Empire should be able to bounce back. To not just recover, but flourish, taking new worlds and people into the Empire.

It still wouldn't change the past, Lotor knew this. No matter what he did, to Arus, and to the slaves, it wouldn't bring back the dead. The torment of Allura and her people might be ultimately meaningless, accomplishing nothing in the long run. And yet Lotor couldn't, wouldn't stop. If only for some twisted personal satisfaction of gaining revenge on the girl who was responsible for so many disappointments.

Allura and her father weren't the only ones to hate. Lotor also felt that emotion strongly. He despised the Arusians above all other races, and their princess most of all. He had held bitter disappointments for three long years, lost one too many friends to this war, but above all he had felt the pain of heart break at her refusal. Allura's rejections had been the driving force to shape him into the man he had become, Lotor trying to model himself into the very monster she had feared. It was little surprise to anyone that he had succeeded.

To Be Continued...

Michelle

Lotor Sincline, thank you! Glad you didn't let frustration with the site keep you from submitting that review! :D And doubly glad you liked that does of Drule evil in action! Boy though, it's gonna make it tough for the Lotor Allura relationship. Hope I'm up to the challenge.


	16. Chapter 16

She kept waiting to wake up, wishing fervently that what was happening to her and the planet would prove to be nothing more than a dream. Some horrible nightmare that might leave her disturbed for a few days, but soon be forgotten. But no matter how hard Romelle tried to wake, things kept happening, many of them unpleasant. Things she thought her mind would be incapable of imagining on it's own, Romelle knowing she would never have thought of the things the Drule Prince had said and done just a short half an hour ago.

She shivered, but it was not a coldness of the body that made her react so. Her very soul was freezing, Romelle remembering the sights of the Drule's victory broadcast. Of seeing her uncle's lifeless body mounted on a cross, his face frozen in grief, stricken with the pain he had been feeling the moment he had died. They had done something to the body, she had been close enough to smell the overwhelming stench of chemicals rising from his flesh.

As horrific as it had been to see Uncle Alfor's body, there had been another that had nearly brought her to her knees in grief and denial. Her beloved father, a once strong King in his own right, now nothing more than a degraded corpse hanging listlessly for the Drules' amusement. Somehow she had managed not to scream at the sight, her voice refusing to work properly. Others in her group had not been so composed, voices screaming out as they recognize king and family members.

Romelle had still been staring at the stage, when someone flung themselves against her. She had barely reacted, not even when a familiar voice had called out her name. Little Bandor, her brother, had needed her comfort, but she had been unable to give it to him. Too lost in her own grief and horror, and fighting back her tears. Numb, she had still embraced him, hugging him for what might be the last time.

It was like that, that they had watched the cruel prince of the sadistic Drules make his grand speech. It had been a dramatic one, with all the right pauses to let the horror of their new reality sink in. The planet was conquered, the people enslaved, the royal houses in shambles. The prince had stolen all hope from the people, letting them know their degradation had only just begun.

With the castle of lions in shambles, it wasn't hard to believe the rest of the planet didn't fare similar. What chance did the cities have when even the castle, the ruling center point of their civilization had fallen? And what hope did the rest of the Galaxy have without Arus around to run interference with Doom? Would the Galaxy Alliance even concern themselves with trying to liberate Arus, or would they be too busy trying to save their own hides?

It depressed her to think like this, but then the whole situation was without much cheer. Her one silver lining, slim though it was, was that Bandor was still alive. And even that joy was marred by the knowledge that he was as much slave as she. And she had born personal witness to the cruelty of her brother's master, Romelle watching in dismayed horror as the Drule had viciously punched Bandor upside the head when the boy had refused to be parted from his sister. Such a cruel and senseless act had torn a scream from Romelle, but she had retained enough sense to let go of her brother. All to avoid the boy getting punched again.

Her last sight of Bandor had been of him in the Drule's grip, the boy looking over his shoulder, crying for her. Romelle had gone limp then, falling to her knees. She hadn't even flinched when hands touched her shoulders, Romelle prepared for the worse. She didn't get it though, that strange Drule of hers, Sabbath, oddly offering comfort to her through his touch. She didn't want his kindness though, didn't think it right when her family members were clearly suffering.

Aunt Orla had been present, the still proud woman covered in noticeable bruises. Dark circles had been under her eyes, hinting at the sleep she had forgone. Allura was also near, Romelle horrified to see her collared and leash, the prince dragging her about like an animal. Allura fought him every step of the way, glaring with a defiance that had gotten other slaves beat.

These all too brief glimpses into the lives of her family didn't reassure her. If anything they made Romelle feel worse to have the better situation. It left her subdued, Romelle lapsing into silence after all she had born witness to. Romelle knew she was worrying Sabbath with her maintained quiet, but she couldn't bring herself to speak to him. Not even to ask where they were going.

He had a firm grip on her hand, leading her through the ship's corridors. Romelle trailed behind him as far as she could, expression tortured. For a time she kept her gaze up right, and it was then that she noticed the looks some of the Drules sent her way. They could be best described as lustful, covetous and envious, and even a few women had openly desired her.

It raised the hair on her arms, Romelle wanting to scream in hysterics. Instead she cast her gaze downwards, concentrating on her bare feet to avoid seeing any more of those stares. It didn't stop her from feeling though, Romelle continuing to relive the past hour in her mind. She had all kinds of worries and fears, and there was one person she had not seen amidst the captured slaves. Nor had he been among the dead bodies, her elder brother Avok missing, his fate unknown. But hope didn't bloom in her heart, the Drules had been quick to squelch such a feeling. And so Romelle despaired, assuming Avok was as dead as their uncle and father was.

She truly must be in shock, the tears would not come, Romelle numb even as the pain magnified ten fold with her thoughts. Not even the thought that the broadcast was probably the last time, the only time she would see most of her family could move her to cry. There was only one other time she had felt like this, so dead to her emotions. And that had been when her mother had died, nearly ten years passing since sickness had felled her.

Now she was glad her mother was dead, for it meant the woman was free of the horrors the rest of Arus was suffering through. Her mother, always a frail woman, would have perished from the first rough blow of a cruel Drule master. And if she didn't expire from the beatings, something would have died in her to see her children dead or enslaved.

As it stood now, Romelle couldn't help but think the truly lucky ones on Arus, were those who had died during the invasion. For they were free, their souls ascending to the heavens, never to know the cruelty of the Drules firsthand. And though Sabbath had yet to do anything outwardly cruel to Romelle, she felt the misery of the situation. Guilt harboring within her at having a master that might not beat or rape her. A master who had been kind, feeding her, clothing her, even comforting her when she had suffered terrible nightmares.

She lifted her gaze, to study the back of Sabbath, noting the many thin braids he wore his shoulder length hair in. His hair was raven colored, as black as a crow's feathers. The ends were tied off with color beads, bright magenta and jade stones. His skin was a powder blue shade, the black of his form fitting leather complementing it nicely. His arms were muscled, and she knew under his vest he had washboard abs, all because of his penchant for going around her in nothing but a towel.

She couldn't remember ever seeing him smile, at best he had managed a worried frown. His eyes, golden in color, were always serious, especially when they were intent on her. As far as monsters went, he was handsome, almost to the point of being pretty. He looked nothing like the Drules that had tried to rape her, those men having held a more reptilian appearance.

She shivered and tried to stop from remembering about her near gang rape, reminding herself that she had been saved. By Sabbath no less, the man protecting her not once, but twice. Three times if she counted his attempts at soothing her nightmares by holding her all night long. She had mixed feelings about being embraced by him, Romelle leery of any chance for an encounter to turn lewd. But she had needed comfort at that moment, and he had been willing and capable enough to give it to her.

_~Traitor!~_ hissed a voice in her head, Romelle flinching as though slapped. She knew that was what she was, for taking his offered comfort. She should be slapping and fighting him, biting and hissing, trying to gouge out his eyes. Anything but walking docilely behind him, like a half tamed feral. And yet she was also a coward, for fear kept her from acting out, especially without suitable provocation. Romelle was frightened that if she gave Sabbath too hard a time, he would give up on her, hand her over to some other Drule. And then where would she be but suffering at the hands of someone who was not so nice, not so kind.

That made her tremble, Sabbath turning to glance her way. He had felt the shudder that went through her, her hand shaking in his. Romelle averted her eyes, not wanting to explain, even if her silence was frustrating to him.

Eventually they arrived at the destination Sabbath had intended for them, the Drule ushering her into a room. She didn't look up right away, hearing a woman's voice call out a greeting to Sabbath in Drule. Sabbath surely returned the greeting, tugging on Romelle's hand to present her before the woman. Painted claws reached for her chin, fingers gripping her firmly as her face was lifted up.

"Oh very nice." Praised the woman, Romelle blinking in surprise at her. The woman was a lavender colored Drule, with more rings piercing her flesh than she had hair! It went beyond the typical human ear piercing, her nose, lips, even her eyebrows pierced. What hair she had was pulled back in a short ponytail in the center of her near bald head. She was dressed in silver, which matched her piercings, and a million bracelets jangled on her wrists.

The Drule female was appraising, using her grip on Romelle's chin to force her to turn her face to the side. "I have a lovely blue that would suit her just fine. Really make those eyes of her sparkle."

Sabbath didn't say anything, having wandered over to the walls, looking at something. It was when the clawed grip released Romelle's chin, that she turned to look his way. There was swatches of fabric on the wall, different colors, some bold, some subdued. Her brow furrowed, not realizing what this room was for, or who this woman was until a measuring tape was brought forth.

Romelle blinked in surprise, the woman was winding the tape tight across her breast in order to measure her bust. Similar was done to her waist and hips, the woman muttering numbers to herself. Sabbath appeared not to be paying attention, more focused on the fabrics, than what was going on with Romelle. And then even the woman lost interest in her, stepping away to go rummaging through chests, and a large walk in closet.

Romelle's gaze followed the woman briefly, and then she was resuming her study of the room. Rolls of fabric were present, almost as tall as Romelle! They lay on their sides, or were propped up like small columns, and some were unraveled partly. Scissors, needles, even a sewing machine were on one table, some bit of fabric laid out and waiting to be mended.

And in one corner a floor length mirror that was angled to give a person three distinct reflections. Romelle was close enough to the mirror to catch herself in one of it's sides, and started in shock at how pale she looked. It was as if her ordeal had leeched out all the color in her skin, leaving her pale and listless. Her eyes which normally sparkled with happiness were sad, the palest of shadows beneath them. But the thing that upset her most of all was the collar around her neck, the mirror offering Romelle her first sight off that offending collar.

Her hands immediately flew up to touch it, fingers scrabbling frantically at the slippery pearl surface. She was desperate to get it off, pulling at it, trying to get enough space to get her fingers between the collar and her throat. Romelle didn't even realize she was making noise, the girl having a panic attack as her eyes grew wet, and her breathing became erratic.

And then Sabbath was before her, grabbing her wrists, forcing her hands away from the hated collar. "No!" Romelle cried out, her tears falling.

"You'll hurt yourself." Sabbath told her, and she all but snarled at him.

"Leave me be!" But he wouldn't oblige her, Sabbath transferring his grip so both wrists were held by his much larger hand. The other touched her hair, petting her in an attempt to calm her. He continued to talk to her, tone soothing. It reminded her of when she had been on the table, the collar maker welded the collar shut around her neck. Back then Sabbath had talked to her through out the entire process, though she wouldn't have been able to tell anyone what he said. She had been too upset, too far gone to make sense of his words.

But his tone had reassured her, enough that she had stopped screaming. And it continued to reassure her now, Romelle calming, sagging into him. He didn't step away, continuing to pet her hair and talk in that low, soothing cadence.

"It's almost over Romelle." Sabbath was saying. "We'll just get you some clothes, and then we'll return to the cabin." She couldn't help but sniffle, knowing his words were not correct. It would NEVER be over, not so long as she wore the collar that marked her as a slave.

"Clothes..."

"Yes. You'd like that wouldn't you?" Sabbath asked, and she nodded. Romelle knew she couldn't walk around indefinitely in just his shirt, comfortable though the silk

was. "We'll get you dressed, fed, and then you can rest."

She was letting him lull her with those words, Romelle nodding again. The female Drule emerged from the closet, several things draped over her arms, all blue. She looked quizzically at Sabbath and Romelle, noting their nearness. "Problem?" She asked, and Sabbath immediately stiffened.

"None." He said, letting go of Romelle, and retreating to the nearest wall.

"Right." She sounded doubtful, but left it at that. "Well, let's get you changed." The Drule said, reaching for the buttons on Romelle's shirt. She immediately shied away from the claws, casting a paranoid look in Sabbath's direction.

"Oh, it's nothing your master hasn't seen before, I'm sure." tsked the lavender colored female, an annoyed expression on her face. Romelle immediately blushed as the shirt was opened, revealing her naked body. Sabbath had seen her, but this was different, no torn dress offering a flimsy excuse at modesty.

The shirt was tossed to the floor, the seamstress all brusk and business like. "Now...will you be wanting undergarments with this?" A smirk then, the woman shaking out some sort of blue scarf. "Or do you prefer easy access?" Romelle's mouth dropped open at that, she started to sputter indignantly.

"Undergarments please." Sabbath said, his voice sounding strained. She refused to look his way so long as she was naked, Romelle sure her blush was coloring her from head to toe.

The woman clucked her tongue. "If you say so..." She began winding what Romelle had thought was scarfs around her breasts, the fabric feeling like the softest of silks. It fit snug across her breasts, and left her midriff bare. Another, wider bit of fabric was wound around her lower half, forming a wrap around skirt. The woman stepped back critically, looking her over.

"Well, Sabbath...what do you think?"

Romelle did a shy glance his way, and immediately regretted it. He was looking at her, and his eyes seemed riveted on her. His nostrils had flared, the gold of his eyes darkening with a look she had become aquatinted with in other Drules.

"Th...this is a mistake." She managed to say softly, the woman giving her a sharp look.

"What did you say?"

"She's right." Sabbath said. "Find something else."

"Something else?" The Drule female frowned. "What's wrong with this outfit?"

"It's too revealing for one thing!" exclaimed Romelle, and the Drule hissed at her.

"It could be a lot worse for a pleasure slave." A smirk then. "Some masters insist on their slaves going around nude save for a few strategically placed jewels. Here and here." The woman gestured to her breasts and her groin, seeming to take pleasure in the way Romelle paled further.

"She's not a pleasure slave." Sabbath said after a long pause. Romelle was as relieved to hear that as the woman was shocked, the Drule female turning her attention away from Romelle.

"Not a pleasure slave? Then what is she?" She demanded after Sabbath nodded. He hesitated, seeming not to know the answer either. "You can't be meaning to make a regular slave out of her! It would be a waste with her looks!"

"What I do with my slave is no one's business but my own!" Sabbath grumbled harshly.

The Drule frowned, then shrugged, moving away from Romelle. She'd return a scant five minutes later with a simple brown tunic, matching slippers, and a pair of cotton panties. Romelle quickly put the items on, noting that even the tunic was indecently short, riding high on her thighs. But it was better than nothing, even if it wasn't as soft on the skin as the blue scarves had been.

Sabbath nodded his approval, and money was exchanged. But the lavender skinned Drule hesitated, a considering eye cast her Romelle's way. "If you're not going to make proper use of her, you should sell her." She seemed to ignore the anger that flashed in Sabbath's eyes, her voice solicitous. "I could recommend several potential buyers to you."

"Not interested." Sabbath growled, shoving the credits into her open hands. He then walked over to Romelle, grabbing her arm without the usual care he showed to her. Romelle stumbled after him, casting a look at the frowning female who was busy counting out her money.

"Come again if you need anything." She called out absentmindedly, then met Romelle's curious gaze. "Of if you change your mind about her." Romelle shivered, fervently hoping Sabbath would not find cause to return to this woman's store.

Sabbath did not slow down his fast walk once they were back in the ship's corridor, Romelle having to jog to keep up with him. He seemed to be growling under his breath, the experience inside the shop fouling his mood considerably. Romelle didn't know how to calm him, or if she should even make an attempt, and she feared what would happen once they were back inside his cabin. For she hadn't forgotten how he had looked at her when she was clad in the blue silk, her stomach doing nervous flips inside her.

"...Sabbath...?" She finally called out his name, and he jerked to a stop abruptly. She crashed into his back, noting how stiff with tension he seemed to be.

"What is it Romelle?" He asked, not looking her way. She paused, grasping for a conversation topic, something that would be harmless, and hold the potential to keep his thoughts from turning amorous.

"I noticed the prince...during the broadcast, he made no mention of Voltron." She said at last. "Why is that?"

"It was done on purpose." Came Sabbath's answer, and he began moving once more. But at a slower pace, Romelle no longer having to run to keep up with him.

"On purpose?" She echoed, confused. "What purpose would it serve to hide what has happened to the robot?"

"Oh many." Sabbath replied. "Predominately, the Empire would like the Alliance to believe Voltron is still in one piece. That it is still useable, and in the possession of the Doom Empire."

Romelle gasped then, immediately understanding the implications of such a thing. If the Alliance thought Doom had the added advantage of Voltron, they would surely lose hope and the will to fight. They might even surrender, knowing they stood no chance at the combined might of Volton and the Doom Empire. It mattered not that Voltron was destroyed, all they needed for now at least, was the lie of it.

"Prince Lotor has dispatched salvage crews." Sabbath was saying. "Even now they search the entirety of Arus."

"Salvage crews? They want to retrieve the remains of Voltron?" Romelle asked. "Why?"

"Even if Voltron cannot be repaired, much could be learned from it's remains."

"Such as how to recreate the robot..." realized Romelle, horrified anew. Sabbath merely nodded, Romelle fighting not to tear up. "When will it end?" She asked, voice cracking on an unvoiced sob. "When will the Doom Empire be satisfied with what it has?"

"Most likely when all of Denubian has fallen." Came Sabbath's answer, the Drule sounding weary. Her mind reeled, Romelle unable to stand the thought of the entire galaxy subjected to the Drules. This time when she stumbled forward, it had nothing to do with walking too fast. She had simply slipped in her upset, thinking she might be violently ill from her thoughts.

"Easy there." Advised Sabbath, having steadied her with his hands. She was in conflict, Romelle both wanting to hit him and to lean into him for support, for comfort. But the comfort he offered would be false, he was part of the problem, part of the race who intended to beat the Denubian galaxy into submission. Romelle stared up into his eyes, her mind whispering that no matter what happened, no matter how nice Sabbath was to her, she had to never forget he was her enemy.

To Be Continued...

Michelle

Lotor Sincline, thank you! Exactly, just cause you're a villain, doesn't mean you can't have a best friend! Lotor needs a buddy, and he's already lost some good friends in this story cause of the war with Arus. As for Cossack...I haven't decided for sure, but I am playing in my head the idea of some kind of relationship between him and the former Queen, Allura's aunt Orla. Several people on LJ have kinda been campaigning for this since Angel first suggested it. XD Of course if I do this, it means I have to squeeze in a Cossack POV every once in a while. Plus eventually I'll have to do a Haggar POV too. See she's gonna finally understand the meaning of her vision, and not tell Lotor the truth. And that is something I can't explain from a Lotor POV or an Allura POV. It has to be Haggar. Oh boy...Hope I'm up to all these new POVS! 


	17. Chapter 17

She was hungry, cold, and miserable. And there was little she could truly do about any of the three. The cold she felt, was a freezing from within. Not even a blanket could chase away her chills, Allura shivering and upset. She kept on remembering recent events, the horrors she had been through. The horrors that kept on coming, new ones piling in on the old. She wondered when it would be enough, when it would all stop. She thought it probably never would, not so long as the Drules continued to have their way.

It was all so horrific, and only growing worse. Allura had thought it had been bad enough to watch her father take his last breath. But nothing could compare to the cruel defilement of his body, Alfor's corpse hung up for all to see. Allura couldn't even take comfort that nothing more had been done to her father's body than that. She was too upset, knowing he should have been given a proper burial, rather than be paraded around as some sick trophy of the Drules' victory.

A trophy was all that Alfor was now, turned into a symbol of a failed resistance against the Doom Empire. Allura could only hope the sight of his corpse would not be enough to cow into defeat the rest of the planets and people who made up the Galaxy Alliance. The people of Arus would have little hope left, if they were to be abandoned by those they had so often aided.

Allura couldn't stop from letting out a bitter sound then. She herself had no hope. It had been killed seemingly a lifetime ago. She knew it had begun when she had seen her father die. Everything that happened to her after that moment, had only worked to continue to destroy what little hope had remained in her. Until nothing was left, Allura an angry, bitter person. One whose only reason for living, only motivation to go on was revenge.

But was thoughts of that revenge enough? Allura did not know. Not when new horrors continued to happen. She had thought she had been at her angriest before the broadcast had happened. Allura had thought nothing worse could be done, than to become a slave, and have to strip before a perverted master. Then she had seen her father's body on display, heard Lotor's words as he made a gloating speech to the rest of the galaxy. Even worse, she had seen her family, the men dead, the women enslaved.

Allura felt horrible to know there was members of her family that were still suffering. That they were enduring the same fate as she, perhaps even worse than Allura! Lotor had not yet beat or raped her. Allura had no assurances that the same had not been done to her family. It hurt to even think of what Aunt Orla and the others might be suffering. And it was a fate that could be made much worse, Lotor quick to make it clear he would use those close to Allura as hostages for the princess' good behavior.

Even worse, even with that threat, Allura wasn't sure she could behave. Wasn't sure she could be docile and obedient when her soul cried out for revenge. It made her feel guilt to think that through her actions her family would suffer. A guilt that could only be worse at her other thoughts, Allura almost wishing her family had died rather than survive on as slaves of the Drules.

It was an awful thing, the choice between death or slavery. But such was the cruelty of the Drule, that death seemed almost preferable to life as the Drules' slaves. Especially when there seemed little chance of escaping from their would be masters. Allura didn't think there was anyone left on Arus that was free. No help would come from that way. The one hope was a long shot, and that depended on if the Galaxy Alliance would be moved to take action against the Drule.

By all right they should. Especially when one considered the numbers of times Alfor and his people had come to the aid of the other worlds. Arus had spent a long five years, fighting other planets' wars, helping the people there to drive off the threat of the Drule. Would anyone step up to take his place? Was anyone that brave, that caring, that devoted to seeing peace restored to the galaxy?

Allura didn't know. She herself had had limited interactions with the leaders of the other worlds. She had never even been off of planet Arus, always left behind as her father traveled to help the other worlds. Some of her family, had traveled with Alfor, doing good, and strengthening relationships between Arus and the other kingdoms. Even her cousin, Romelle's brother Avok, had been active in working with Allura's father.

But like so many of her family, Avok was either dead or enslaved. Allura didn't know for sure his fate. She hadn't seen his body on display with Alfor's, but neither had Allura seen him among the gathered slaves. She had seen Bandor, the boy young enough that the Drule hadn't thought him a threat to kill. He had been clinging to his sister, Romelle holding on just as fiercely before they were forcibly separated.

It had been cruel, and terrible to witness, Bandor being struck upside the head. But it was just one more terrible act, cruelty Allura knew she would have to get used to. She couldn't react in tears every time a Drule did something horrible. Otherwise she would be crying all the time. Just like she had cried when brought to Lotor's cabin, the Drule soldier that had escorted her, leaving her all alone in the darkness.

Allura wasn't happy that she had given in to her grief. She had struggled valiantly against the tears, but ultimately had lost. Her grief would not be denied, Allura openly weeping. And not just for herself, but for everything that had been lost. Her people's freedom and home, her family's suffering, the deaths. She had cried for what seemed like hours, Allura finally collapsing tired on Lotor's bed. So exhausted had she been, she didn't even protest the use of it, just going to sleep on a whimper.

She hadn't felt any better when she woke up. Her reality remained the same, enslaved by her most hated of enemies. She had wanted to start crying again, and yet wouldn't allow herself such weakness a second time. Certainly she didn't want to cry and risk Lotor arriving in time to find her still weeping. Allura never wanted to give Lotor the satisfaction of her tears.

But there wasn't much to distract her from her upsetting thoughts. She was all alone in the cabin, no books to read, no holos to view. The lights hadn't even been turned on, leaving Allura to flounder in darkness. It seemed a setting designated to drive her mad, to force her into thinking about her situation and how horrible it truly was. All she could do was think. She didn't even have dreams to escape to. Not with no hope left to Allura. She might have lost herself to fantasies of revenge, but those would ultimately be unsatisfying. Allura wanted to do more than just dream about killing Lotor, she wanted to actually accomplish it!

But she didn't know how. Not that she would give up so quickly. Allura would keep her eyes open, ready to catch some vulnerability to exploit against the prince. She was determined to have her revenge, or die trying. Allura would use almost anything to accomplish that goal of hers. Nor did it matter what happened to her afterwards. Allura didn't care how they tortured her, she could die crudely satisfied with the Drule prince's death.

She was still sitting in the middle of his bed, when the outer chamber's door swished open. The lights immediately came on, Allura blinking owlishly in response to the sudden brightness. Lotor did not linger in the outer chamber, coming straight to the bedroom. His face was one of displeasure, eyes angry, expression hard. He'd actually scowl at the sight of Allura on his bed, hand clenching over the hilt of his sword.

She was fearless in response to that unspoken threat, glaring back at him with all the hate and anger she could muster. It was easy to grasp onto such negative feelings. All she had to do was remember her father's lifeless body hanging from the cross. "Monster!" Allura spat, making no move to get off the bed. It wasn't the first time she had called him that, and Allura had a feeling it wouldn't be the last. "You cruel, vicious, evil monster!" In Allura's mind there was no question of Lotor's evil, not after what he had done.

A range of emotions flickered in Lotor's eyes, the prince responding to her words. He seemed to grow even angrier, lips baring fanged teeth as he let out a low voiced growl. Allura was too far gone in her own grief to care if she was inciting the prince to take action against her. In fact she would have welcomed it, and the death Allura was sure would follow.

"I knew you Drule were a horrible people..." She continued, refusing to back down her defiance, to cool down her anger even one degree. "A vicious race, barbaric savages...but truly...the stories that have been spread about your people, they do nothing to prepare for the evil, the cruelty, the perversions of the Drule in reality!"

He was still growling. Allura felt she could have talked for eternity, railing at him for the sick depravity of Lotor and his people. "You truly are a Godless people. Monsters every last one of you!"

"Are you done yet?" Lotor managed to snap out. His hand was still resting on the hilt of his sword, though he made no move to draw it. Allura glared at him, almost shaking with her anger. The anger was better than her grief, or to feel fear, Allura holding it's around her as though it was a warming flame.

"No! I am not!" Allura retorted, drawing herself up right so that she was on her knees in the center of the bed. "I'll never be finished! You Drule are animals! No! Worse than animals...you're soulless creatures...you have no right to anything...certainly not to the worlds you invade, and the people you enslave! There's nothing good about you and you people, nothing at all! Why..."

"ENOUGH!" The hum of lazon immediately followed his snarl, Lotor's sword drawn and glowing with a malevolent light. Allura stared at the sword, shifting on the bed so that her arms were thrown wide in an accepting gesture.

"Yes, kill me!" She goaded him. "Prove to me what I say is true! End the life of a defenseless girl. A person who has done nothing but speak the truths you do not want to hear!"

Another growl from Lotor, though he did not move to approach the bed. The sword gleamed deadly in the distance between them, Lotor locking eyes with Allura. She could see how enraged he was, how close to the edge of violence he teetered upon. Allura knew she shouldn't be taunting him, shouldn't be goading him like this. And yet she couldn't stop, her hatred, her bitterness, her disappointments making her bold and wanting nothing more than the cold solace of death. Either his, or hers.

"You speak as if you know EVERYTHING about my people!" Lotor snarled at her. "But in reality? You know very little!"

"What more could there be?" Allura demanded. "What could you or anyone else possibly tell me that would make me view your people as anything but monsters?"

"You thought of us as monsters long before you ever even met any one of us Drule!" Lotor retorted. "I doubt someone so set in her ways, so secure in her hatred, could ever be swayed to take a good look at the truth!"

"And what truth is that?" Allura asked with her own growl. "My people are either dead or enslaved, my family suffering similar. My world has been invaded, my father lured into a Drule trap and killed. Your kind didn't even have the honor to fight him fairly...you ambushed a good man, a just man! A man who was set on bringing peace to the galaxy!"

"Peace?" scoffed Lotor. "Where was his determination for that peace three years ago? My father made him an offer...an offer he refused!"

Allura was more than a bit confused by Lotor's remark. But she didn't let that confusion stop her from arguing with him. "Anything your father offered was tainted! It came with too high a cost, a price no one in their right mind would dare pay!" Lotor actually seemed to twitch in response to that, his anger visibly growing in intensity. Allura didn't know why, what button had she pushed to get such a reaction from him?

"You let your own hatreds poison your chance at peace, at freedom!" Lotor roared at her. "You've gained nothing for the refusal, and lost EVERYTHING! Arus could have known peace, the people free and thriving. Now you and your own will only know torment and misery. Was it worth it Allura? Was it worth turning your nose down on everything my father had offered you?"

"We...we did the only thing we could do. The right thing!" Allura snapped back in retort. "My father would never gain Arus peace at the sacrifice of the rest of the galaxy..."

"Your father was a fool and is now dead!"

"And your people killed him!" Allura reminded him, voice shrill with her hatred and pain.

"It's no worse than what your father and his allies would have done to my own!" Lotor retorted. His eyes narrowed, the light of the lazon blade distorting the color of his eyes. "What they have already done time and time again! How many Drules have died, Allura? How many killed at the hands of the Arusians and Voltron?"

"Those deaths were earned the instant they took up arms to fight against my father!" Allura snapped.

"They were good people who died!"

Allura began to laugh, ignoring the incensed look Lotor gave her. "The only good Drule is a dead Drule!" She followed up that exclamation with a gasp, the Drule Prince suddenly on the move. She barely had time to react, finding his speed taking her by surprise. Allura was knocked over, toppling onto her back on the bed. An angry Prince Lotor was on top of her, lips curled back to bare his all too sharp fangs. His one hand was on her shoulder, pinning her down with strength that was impressive. The other hand held the sword, the tip of it embedded into the bed's mattress, just to the right of Allura's head.

The laughter had died within her, Allura staring up at Lotor with wide eyes. She could smell the lazon burning the fabric of the mattress, could feel the heat of the metal so close to her face. Tension vibrated within Lotor, leaving Allura to wonder how difficult it had been for him to direct the sword to pierce the bed rather than her own body.

"Is that what you were thinking when you shot down my friend's ship?" Lotor hissed out in question to her. Allura stared up at him, sensing her answer might very well be the defining decision on whether or not he'd turn his blade against her. "Answer me!" Lotor snapped in impatience.

"I..." Slowly, she licked her lips, mouth suddenly feeling too dry. What did she want more? To die here and now, her goal of revenge unfinished? Or to live on, miserable but looking for the chance to kill this man? It wasn't an easy choice, both had their downsides, both had their appeal. "I was upset." She finally said, her voice raw with honesty. "My father had just died, killed by Drule soldiers who had lain in ambush for him. I was beyond thinking, grief stricken and wanting only one thing..." She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. "I still want that. Still want to see any and all who had a part in my father's death pay." She opened her eyes, defiant in the moment. "If that is a desire that you deem worthy of killing over, then so be it."

The hand holding his sword actually tensed, fingers clenching tighter around the hilt. She thought Lotor was going to kill her, and Allura didn't so much as flinch. She had a moment's sorrow to think of her family, of Orla, of Bandor and Romelle, of Avok whose fate was unknown. Of all the men, women and children that had survived the invasion, and were now enslaved. Her one regret was that Allura couldn't do anything to better their situations, that she was about to die without ever avenging them.

Lotor seemed to hold Allura's stare for a small eternity. And then with a vicious sounding curse, the blade was deactivated, sword being flung away from the bed. Allura didn't know how to feel that Lotor hadn't gone through with killing her. It must have shown in her eyes, because he suddenly was snorting. "Don't look so disappointed." Lotor said in a gruff tone of voice. He was slow to sit up, pulling off Allura to ease back a few inches besides her.

"You're not going to kill me?" Allura asked, cautious as she just lay there staring up at the ceiling.

"That would serve no purpose." Lotor answered. "Besides...how can you atone for you and your father, your peoples' sins if you die so quickly?"

"Atone?" Allura echoed, wondering just what he meant by that. Lotor did not bother to explain, but she felt his movements as he shifted on the bed.

"His name is Cossack." He finally said. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes questioning. Lotor glanced her way, an unreadable look on his face. "The man you shot down." Allura had nothing to say to that, save for a sound.

"Oh..."

"He didn't die." Lotor continued. "I bet you feel disappointed to hear you couldn't even do that right. But Drules are tough, a hardy people. We don't die so easily."

"Just means I have to try harder..." Allura muttered.

"You don't know when to hold your tongue." Lotor noted. "That'll get you in trouble..."

"Worse trouble than I already am in?" Allura asked, with more than a sarcastic tone to her voice.

"You haven't begun to experience the worst a slave can expect for her disobedience." Lotor told her. He finally got off the bed, retrieving his sword from the floor. Allura watched as he slid it into the sheathe attached to his sword belt, then walked over to a closet. The sword and belt would be placed in a panel that opened in the back of the closet, some kind of mechanism locking it close once Lotor was done with it. She couldn't see what he had done to trigger the lock, disappointment filling her at her lost chance to get her hands on Lotor's sword.

He noticed, and actually smirked at her, though he made no comment in regard to the sword and it's hiding spot. "That Cossack? He's my friend. Allura just shrugged in response, not really caring what ties this Drule had to Lotor. "And despite what you think. He's a good man. He didn't deserve to be shot at, and he certainly didn't deserve to end up paralyzed because of some grief stricken slave."

"Neither did my father deserve to die. But it still happened." Allura pointed out.

"It still did." Agreed Lotor. "But Allura...you had your chance at revenge...you tried and lost...while I?" Another one of those smirks, the expression lacking any real humor to it. "I haven't even begun to enact my revenge."

She felt a shiver go through her at the look he gave her then. It was as though he stared straight into her, seeing past her clothes and her body, to the soul within. She didn't want to imagine the torments, the perversions and indignities he would attempt to do to her in the coming days. Nor could Allura honestly say she understood why he was holding back so far. But she knew without a doubt, that today was only the beginning. There would be worse things to suffer than going without a meal for so many hours. Allura could only hope she'd be strong enough to survive whatever was coming next.

Eh...not too thrilled with this chapter, especially the ending paragraph. BLARGH!

To Be Continued...

Michelle


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